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ANDY AT YALE 


THE UNIVERSITY SERIES 

By Roy Eliot Stokes 

i2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 
$1.00, net. 

ANDY AT YALE 

Or The Great Quadrangle Mystery 

CHET AT HARVARD 

Or A Young Freshman’s Triumphs 

( Other volumes in preparation ) 

Sully and Kleinteich, Publishers, New York 





“There he is now, the freshest of the fresh. 

Take off that hat.” [See page 77] 


ANDY AT YALE 


OR 

THE GREAT QUADRANGLE MYSTERY 

BY 

ROY ELIOT $TOKES 


ILLUSTRATED 



NEW YORK 

SULLY AND KLEINTEICH 




Copyright, 1914, by 
SULLY AND KLEINTEICH 


MAR 26 1914 



(C'r,! A f) fi o 1 : I 


PREFACE 


In presenting this first volume of “The Uni- 
versity Series,” I am entering upon a somewhat 
new field in stories for boys. I am well aware 
that a number of books have been published, pur- 
porting to give scenes and details of life at our 
big colleges and universities. 

Most of them are excellent, while others, in 
my opinion, are not, for various reasons, suited 
to boys. I hope to be able to fill in a sort of gap 
in this field, and to tell you some interesting tales 
about real boys who take courses at well-known 
colleges. 

Each university has a life peculiarly its own, 
whether it is at Yale, Harvard, Princeton or else- 
where. There are certain customs and traditions 
that are never violated. This forms a large part 
of the student life. It is what gives to each col- 
lege its individuality. : 

It has been my endeavor in this series to show 
something of this life — at least of some aspects 
of it. I have begun with Yale, not that it is any 
better known than some of the other institutions, 
but because of the prominence Yale has always 
taken in athletics. 


Preface 


And yet this is not a story of college sports, 
though you will find some attention given to them. 
I have tried to set down a few incidents in the life 
of an ordinary student at Yale. 

So then you may read how Andy, Chet, Ben 
and other good fellows, attended at a college 
preparatory school. How they each chose a dif- 
ferent university, and how they went there to 
complete their studies. 

In the present book we take up the life of Andy 
Blair at Yale. He went there, knowing no one, 
but soon became interested in a certain student. 
In fact he learned to know and like a number of 
them. But it was with his roommate, Dunk 
Chamber, that Andy was most concerned. 

How Andy saved Dunk from himself, how he 
befriended a simple young man who was trying 
to make his way in the world, how he, as well as 
his chums, were taken in by a wily Jap, and how 
finally Andy solved the great quadrangle mys- 
tery — all this you will find set down in this vol- 
ume. I venture to hope that you will like it. 

In the volumes that are to follow I will try to 
depict for you life at Princeton, at Harvard and 
at other colleges. 


Roy Eliot Stokes 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A Horse- Whipping i 

II. Good Samaritans 12 

III. An Unpleasant Prospect 19 

IV. The Picture Show 28 

V. Final Days 36 

VI. The Bonfire 45 

VII. Link Again 51 

VIII. Off for Yale 63 

IX. On the Campus 72 

X. Missing Money 78 

XI. “Rough House” 85 

XII. A Fierce Tackle 97 

XIII. Bargains 102 

XIV. Dunk Refuses 113 

XV. Dunk Goes Out 123 

XVI. In Bad 131 

XVII. Andy’s Despair 138 

XVIII. Andy’s Resolve 146 

XIX. Link Comes to College 150 

XX. Queer Disappearances 158 

XXI. A Gridiron Battle 166 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII. Andy Says “No!” 1 77 

XXIII. Reconciliation 185 

XXIV. Link’s Visit 193 

XXV. The Missing Watch 198 

XXVI. The Girls 205 

XXVII. Jealousies 213 

XXVIII. The Book 219 

XXIX. The Accusation „ 230 

XXX. The Letter 237 

XXXI. On the Diamond 245 

XXXII. Victory 257 

XXXIII. The Trap 281 

XXXIV. Caught 291 

XXXV. For the Honor of Yale 300 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


“There he is now the freshest of the 

fresh. Take off that hat. ” - - Frontispiece ■ 

PAGE 

“Here, quit that! ” exclaimed Andy. - \2V 

In came, with a rush, Mortimer Gaffington 

and several other sophomores. - 92 

Straight at the Harvard back he ran. - 174 

And Andy took his place behind the rub- 
ber, while Dunk went to the mound. 272 

“We’ve got you,” cried Dunk. 298 5/ 


ANDY AT YALE 


CHAPTER I 

A HORSE-WHIPPING 

“ Come on, Andy, what are you hanging back 
for? ” 

“Oh, just to look at the view. It’s great! 
Why, you can see for twenty miles from here, 
right off to the mountains ! ” 

One lad stood by himself on the summit of a 
green hill, while, a little below, and in advance 
of him, were four others. 

“ Oh, come on ! ” cried one of the latter. 
“View! Who wants to look at a view?” 

“ But it’s great, I tell you ! I never appreci- 
ated it before!” exclaimed Andy Blair. “You 
can see ! ” 

“ Oh, for the love of goodness! Come on! ” 
came in protest from the objecting speaker. 
“What do we care how far we can see? We’re 
going to get something to eat! ” 

“That’s right! Some of Kelly’s good old kid- 
ney stew 1 ” 

“ A little chicken for mine ! ” 


2 


Andy at Yale 

“ I’m for a chop ! ” 

“ Beefsteak on the grill I ” 

Thus the lads, waiting for the one who had 
stopped to admire the fine view, chanted their 
desires in the way of food. 

“ Come on ! ” finally called one in disgust, and, 
with a half sigh of regret, Andy walked on to 
join his mates. 

“What’s getting into you lately?” demanded 
Chet Anderson, a bit petulantly. “ You stand 
mooning around, you don’t hear when you’re 
spoken to, and you don’t go in for half the fun 
you used to.” 

“Are you sick? Or is it a — girl?” queried 
Ben Snow, laughing. 

“Both the same!” observed Frank Newton, 
cynically. 

“Listen to the old dinkbat!” exclaimed Tom 
'Hatfield. “You’d think he knew all about the 
game! You never got a letter from a girl in 
your life, Frank! ” 

<f I didn’t, eh? That’s all you know about it,” 
and Frank made an unsuccessful effort to punch 
his tormentor. 

“ Well, if we’re going on to Churchtown and 
have a bit of grub in Kelly’s, let’s hoof it! ” sug- 
gested Chet. “You can eat; can’t you, Andy? 
Haven’t lost your appetite; have you, looking at 
that blooming view?” 


3 


A Horse- Whipping 

“ No, indeed. But you fellows don’t seem to 
realize that in another month we’ll never see it 
again, unless we come back to Milton for a visit.” 

“That’s right!” agreed Ben Snow. “This is 
our last term at the old school! I’ll be sorry to 
leave it, in a way, even though I do expect to go 
to college.” 

“Same here,” came from Tom. “What col- 
lege are you going to, Ben? ” 

“Hanged if I know! Dad keeps dodging 
from one to another. He’s had all the catalogs 
for the last month, studying over ’em like a fel- 
low going up for his first exams. Sometimes it’s 
Cornell, and then he switches to Princeton. I’m 
for the last myself, but dad is going to foot the 
bills, so I s’pose I’ll have to give in to him.” 

“ Of course. Where are you heading for, 
Andy?” 

“ Oh, I’m not so sure, either. It’s a sort of 
toss-up between Yale and Harvard, with a little 
leaning toward Eli on my part. But I don’t have 
to decide this week. Come on, let’s hoof it a 
little faster. I believe I’m getting Hungry.” 

“ And yet you would stop to moon at a view ! ” 
burst out Frank. “ Really, Andy, I’m surprised 
at you ! ” 

“Oh, cut it out, you old faker! You know 
that view from Brad’s Hill can’t be beat for 
miles around.” 


4 


Andy at Yale 

“That’s right!” chorused the others, and 
there seemed to have come over them all a more 
serious manner with the mention of the pending 
break-up of their pleasant relations. They had 
hardly realized it before. 

For a few minutes they walked on over the 
hills in silence. The green fields, with here and 
there patches of woodland, stretched out all 
around them. Over in the distance nestled a 
little town, its white church, with the tall, slen- 
der spire, showing plainly. 

Behind them, hidden by these same green hills 
over which they were tramping this beautiful 
day in early June, lay another town, now out 
of sight in a hollow. It was Warrenville, on 
the outskirts of which was located the Milton 
Preparatory School the’ five lads attended. 
They were in their last year, would soon grad- 
uate, and then separate, to go to various col- 
leges, or other institutions. 

School work had ended early this day on ac- 
count of coming examinations, and the lads, 
who had been chums since their entrance at Mil- 
ton, had voted to go for a walk, and end up with 
an early supper at Kelly’s, a more or less cele- 
brated place where the students congregated. 
This was at Churchtown, about five miles from 
Warrenville. The boys were to walk there and 
come back in the trolley. 


5 


A Horse- Whipping 

They had spent two years at the Milton 
school, and had been friends for years before 
that, all of them living in the town of Dunmore, 
in one of our Middle States. There was much 
rejoicing among them when they found that all 
five who had played baseball and football to- 
gether in Dunmore, were to go to the same 
preparatory school. It meant that the pleasant 
relations were not to be severed. But now the 
shadow of parting had cast itself upon them, 
and had tempered their buoyant spirits. 

“Yes, boys, it will soon be good-bye to old 
Milton ! ” exclaimed Chet, with a sigh. 

“ I wonder if we’ll get anybody like Dr. Mor- 
rison at any of the colleges we go to?” spoke 
Ben. 

“You can’t beat him — no matter where you 
go! ” declared Andy. “He’s the best ever! ” 

“ That’s right! He knows just how to take a 
fellow,” commented Tom. “ Remember the 
time I smuggled the puppy into the physiology 
class?” 

“I should say we did!” laughed Andy. 

“ And how he yelped when I pinched his tail 
that stuck out from under your coat,” (added 
Ben. “Say, it was great!” 

“ I’ll never forget how old Pop Swann looked 
up over the tops of his glasses,” put in Frank. 

“ Dr. Morrison was mighty decent about it 


6 


Andy at Yale 

when he had me up on the carpet, too,” 
added Tom. “ I thought sure I was in for a 
wigging — maybe a suspension, and I couldn’t 
stand that, for dad had written me one warn- 
ing letter. 

“ But all Prexy did was to look at me in that 
calm, withering, pitying way he has, and then 
say in that solemn voice of his: ‘Ah, Hatfield, 
I presume you are going in for vivisection ?* 
Say, you could have floored me with a feather. 
That’s the kind of a man Dr. Morrison is.” 

“Nobody else like him,” commented Andy, 
with a sigh. 

“ Oh, well, if any of us go to Yale, or Prince- 
ton, or Harvard, I guess we’ll find some decent 
profs, there,” spoke Ben. “They can’t all be 
riggers.” 

“ Sure not,” said Andy. “ But those colleges 
will be a heap sight different from Milton.” 

“Of course! What do you expect? This is 
a kindergarten compared to them!” exclaimed 
Frank. 

“ But it’s a mighty nice kindergarten,” com- 
mented Tom. “ It’s like a school in our home 
town, almost.” 

“ I sure will be sorry to leave it,” added Andy. 
“But come on; we’ll never get to Kelly’s at this 
rate.” 

The sun was sinking behind the western hills 


A Horse- Whipping 7 

in a bank of golden and purple clouds.' Two 
miles yet lay between the lads and their objec- 
tive point — the odd little oyster and chop house 
so much frequented by the students of Milton. 
It was an historic place, was Kelly’s; a beloved 
place where the lads foregathered to talk over 
their doings, their hopes, their fears, their joys 
and sorrows. It was an old-fashioned place, 
with little, dingy rooms, come upon unexpect- 
edly; rooms just right for small parties of con- 
genial souls — with tall, black settles, and tables 
roughened with many jack-knifed initials. 

“ We can cut over to the road, and get there 
quicker,” remarked Andy, after a pause. “ Sup- 
pose we do it. I don’t want to get back too 
late.” 

“ All right,” agreed Tom. u I want to write 
a couple of letters myself.” 

“Oh, ho! Now who’s got a girl?” demand- 
ed Chet, suspiciously. 

“ Nobody, you amalgamated turnip. I’m go- 
ing to write to dad, and settle this college busi- 
ness. Might as well make a decision now as 
later, I reckon.” 

“ We’ll have to sign soon, or it will be too 
late,” spoke Chet. “ Those big colleges aren’t 
like the small prep, schools. They have waiting 
lists — at least for the good rooms in the campus 
halls. That’s where I’d like to go if I went to 


8 


Andy at Yale 

Yale — in Lawrance Hall, or some place like 
that, where I could look out over the campus, 
or the Green.” 

“There are some dandy rooms in front of 
Lawrance Hall where you can look out over the 
New Haven Green,” put in Ben. “ I was there 
once, and how I did envy those fellows, lolling 
in their windows on their blue cushions, puffing 
on pipes and making believe study. It was 
great! ” 

“Making believe study!” exclaimed Andy. 
“I guess they do study! You ought to see the 
stiff list of stuff on the catalog! ” 

“You got one?” asked Chet. 

“ Sure. I’ve been doping it out.” 

“ I thought you said you hadn’t decided where 
to go yet,” remarked Frank. 

“ Well, I have,” returned Andy, quietly. 

“You have! When, for the love of tripe? 
You said a while ago ” 

“ I know I did. But I’ve decided since then. 
I’m going to Yale! ” 

“ You are? Good for you ! ” cried Tom, clap- 
ping his chum on the back with such energy that 
Andy nearly toppled over. “That’s the stuff! 
Rah! Rah! Rah! Yale! Bulldog!” 

“Here! Cut it out!” ordered Andy. “I’m 
not at Yale yet, and they don’t go around doing 
that sort of stuff unless maybe after a game. I 


9 


A Horse- Whipping 

was down there about a month ago, and say, 
there wasn’t any of that ‘ Rah-rah! ’ stuff on the 
campus at all. But of course I wasn’t there 
long.” 

“ So that’s where you went that time you 
slipped off,” commented Chet. “ Down at Yale. 
And you’ve decided to sign for there?” 

“ I have. It seemed to come to me as we 
walked down the hill. I’ve made my choice. 
I’m going to write to dad.” 

They walked on silently for a few moments 
following Andy’s remarks. 

‘“It was the King of France, 

He had ten thousand men. 

He marched them up the hill, 

And marched them down again ! ’ ” 

Thus suddenly quoted Chet in a sing-song 
voice, adding: 

“ If we’re going to get any grub at Kelly’s, 
it’s up to us to march down this hill faster than 
we’ve been going, or we’ll get left. That other 
crowd from Milton will have all the good 
places.” 

“ Come on then, fellows, hit her up ! ” ex- 
claimed Frank. “Hep! Hep! Left! Left! ” and 
they started off at a good pace. 

They reached the country road that led more 


10 


Andy at Yale 

directly to Churchtown, and swung off along this. 
The setting sun made a golden aurora that June 
day, the beams filtering through a haze of dust. 
The boys talked of many things, but chiefly of the 
coming parting — of the colleges they might at- 
tend. 

As they passed a farmhouse near the side of 
the road, and came into view of the barnyard, 
they saw two men standing beside a team of 
horses hitched to a heavy wagon. One was tall 
and heavily built, evidently the farmer-owner. 
The other was a young man, of about twenty-two 
years, his left arm in a sling. 

The boys would have passed on with only a 
momentary glance at the pair but for something 
that occurred as they came opposite. They saw 
the big man raise a horsewhip and lash savagely 
at the young man. 

The lash cracked like the shot of a revolver. 

“ I’ll teach you ! ” fairly roared the big man. 
“ I’ll teach you to soldier on me ! Playin’ off, 
that’s what you are, Link Bardon! Playing 
off!” 

“I’m not playing off! My arm is injured. 
And don’t you strike me again, Mr. Snad, or 
I’ll ” 

“You will, eh?” burst out the other. 
“You’ll threaten me, will you? Well, I’ll teach 
you! Tryin’ to pretend your arm is sprained so 


A Horse- Whipping 11 

you won’t have to work. I’ll teach you! Take 
that!” 

Again the cruel whip came down with stinging 
force. The face of the young man, that had 
flamed with righteous anger, went pale. 

“Take that, you lazy, good-for-nothing!” 

Again the whip descended, and the young man 
put up his uninjured arm to defend himself. The 
farmer rained blow after blow on his hired man, 
driving him toward a fence. 

“Fellows! I can’t stand this!” exclaimed 
Andy Blair, with sudden energy. “ That big 
brute is a coward! Are you with me?” 

“We sure are! ” came in an energetic chorus 
from the others. 

“ Then come on ! ” cried Andy, and with a 
short run he cleared the fence and dashed up to- 
ward the farmer, who was still lashing away with 
the horse-whip. 


CHAPTER II 


GOOD SAMARITANS 

“Here! Quit that!” exclaimed Andy, pant- 
ing a bit from his exertion. “ Drop that whip ! ” 

The farmer wheeled around, for Andy had 
come up behind him. Surprise and anger showed 
plainly on the man’s flushed face, and blazed 
from his blood-shot eyes. 

“ Wha — what ! ” he stammered in amaze- 
ment. 

“ I said quit it! ” came in resolute tones from 
Andy. “Don’t you hit him any more! You 
ought to be ashamed of yourself. Using a whip ! 
Why don’t you take some one your size, and use 
your hands if you have to. You’re a coward! ” 

“That’s right!” chimed in Chet Anderson. 

“ It’s a blooming shame — that’s what it is ! ” 
protested Tom Hatfield. “ Let’s make a rough- 
house of him, fellows!” 

“What’s that?” cried the farmer. “You 
threaten me, do you? Get out of my barnyard 
before I treat you as I did him ! Get out, do you 
hear!’* 


12 



“Here, quit that!” exclaimed Andy 



Good Samaritans 


13 


“No! ” exclaimed Andy. “We don’t go un- 
til you promise to leave him alone,” and he 
nodded at the shrinking youth. 

“Say, I’ll show you!” blustered the big far- 
mer. “ I’ll thrash you young upstarts ” 

“Oh no, you won’t!” exclaimed Tom, easily. 
And when big Tom Hatfield, left guard on the 
Milton eleven, spoke in this tone trouble might 
always be looked for. “ Oh, no you won’t, my 
friend! And, just to show you that you won’t 
— there goes your whip ! ” 

With a quick motion Tom pulled the lash from 
the man’s hand, and sent it whirling over the 
fence into the road. 

“You — you!” blustered the farmer. He 
was too angry to be able to speak coherently. 
His hands were clenched and his little pig-like 
eyes roved from one to the other of the lads 
as though he were trying to decide upon which 
one to rush first. 

“ Take it easy, now,” advised Tom, his voice 
still low. “ We’re five to one, and we’ll certainly 
tackle you, and tackle you hard, if you don’t be 
nice. We’re not afraid of you!” 

Perhaps the angry man realized this. Cer- 
tainly he must have known that he would stand 
little chance in attacking five healthy, hearty 
youngsters, each of whom had the glow of clean- 
living on his cheeks, while their poise showed 


14 


Andy at Yale 

that they were used to active work, and ready 
for any emergency. 

u Get out of this yard!” roared the farmer. 
“ What right have you got interfering between 
me and my hired man, anyhow? What right, 
I’d like to know? ” 

“The right of every lover of fair-play!” ex- 
claimed Andy. “ Do you think we’d stand 
quietly by and let you use a horse-whip on a 
young fellow that you ought to be able to handle 
with one hand? And he with his arm in a sling! 
To my way of thinking, you ought to be ashamed 
of yourself.” 

The farmer growled out something unintelli- 
gible. 

“We ought to do you up good and brown! ” 
exclaimed Tom, his fists clenched. 

“ He’s only playing off on me — he ain’t hurt 
a mite!” growled the farmer. “He’s only 
fakin’ on me.” 

“ I certainly am not,” spoke the young fellow 
in firm but respectful terms. “ I sprained my 
arm unloading your wagon, Mr. Snad, and I 
can’t drive the team any more to-day. I put 
my handkerchief around it because the sprain 
hurt me so. I certainly can’t work!” His 
voice faltered and he choked. His spirit seemed 
as much hurt as his body — perhaps more. 

“Huh! Can’t work, eh? Then get out!” 


Good Samaritans 


15 


snarled Mr. Snad. “ I want no loafer around 
here ! Get out ! ” 

“ I’m perfectly willing to go when you pay me 
what you owe me,” said the helper, quietly. 

“ Owe you ! I don’t owe you nothin’, you lazy 
lout! ” snapped the farmer. 

“You certainly do. You owe me twelve dol- 
lars, and as soon as you pay me I’ll get out, and 
be glad to go ! ” 

u Twelve dollars ! I’d like to see myself giv- 
ing you that much money! ” grumbled the far- 
mer. “You ain’t wuth but ten dollars at the 
most, an’ I won’t pay you that for you busted my 
mowin’ machine, an’ it’ll take that t’ pay for 
fixin’ it.” 

“That mowing machine was in bad order 
when you had me take it out,” replied the young 
fellow, “ and you know it. It was simply an 
accident that it broke, and not my fault in the 
least.” 

“Well, you’ll pay for it, just the same,” was 
the sneering reply. “ Now be off ! ” 

“ Not until I get my wages. You agreed to 
pay me twelve dollars a month, and board me. 
My month is up to-day, and I want my money. 
It’s about all I have in the world; I need it.” 

“You’ll not get it out of me,” and the farmer 
turned aside. Evidently he had given up the 
idea of further chastising his hired man. The 


16 Andy at Yale 

presence of Andy and his chums was enough to 
deter him. 

“Mr. Snad, I demand my money! ” exclaimed 
the young farm hand. 

“You’ll not get it! Leave my premises! 
Clear off, all of you,” and he glared at the school- 
boys. 

“ Mr. Snad, I’ll go as soon as you give me my 
twelve dollars,” persisted the youth, his voice 
trembling. 

“ You’ll get no twelve dollars out of me,” 
snapped the man. 

“ Oh, yes, I think he will,” spoke Andy. 
“You’d better pay over that money, Mr. Snad.” 

“ Eh ? What’s that your business ? ” 

“ It’s the business of everyone to see fair 
play,” said Andy. 

“ And we’re going to do it in this case,” added 
Tom, still in even tones. 

“Are you? Well, I’d like to know how?” 
sneered the farmer. 

“ Would you? Then listen and you will hear, 
my friend,” went on Tom. “ Unless you pay 
this young man the money you owe him we will 
swear out a warrant against you, have you ar- 
rested, and use him as a witness against you.” 

For a moment there was a deep silence; then 
the farmer burst out with: 

“ Have me arrested ! Me? What for?” 


Good Samaritans 


IT 


“ For assault and battery,” answered Tom. 
“We saw you assault this young man with a 
horse-whip, and, while it might take some time 
to have him sue you for his wages, it won’t take 
us any time at all to get an officer here and have 
you taken to jail on a criminal charge. The mat- 
ter of the wages may be a civil matter — the 
horse-whipping is criminal. 

“ So, take your choice, Mr. Snad, if that’s your 
name. Pay this young man his twelve dollars, 
or we’ll cause your arrest on this assault charge. 
Now, my friend, it’s up to you,” and taking out 
his pocket knife Tom began whittling a stick 
picked from the ground. Andy and his chums 
looked admiringly at Tom, who had thus found 
such an effective lever of persuasion. 

The angry farmer glanced from one to the 
other of the five lads. They gave him back look 
for look — unflinchingly. 

“ And don’t be too long about it, either,” 
added Tom, making the splinters fly. “We’re 
due at Kelly’s for a little feed, and then we want 
to get back to Milton. Don’t be too long, my 
friend, unless you want to spend the night in 
jail.” 

The farmer gulped once or twice. The 
Adam’s aple in his throat went up and down. 
Clearly he was struggling with himself. 

“ I — I — you ” he began. 


18 


Andy at Yale 

“ Tut ! Tut ! ” chided Tom. “ You’d better go 
get the money. We can’t wait all day.” 

“ I — er — I ” The farmer seemed at a 

loss for words. Then, turning on his heel, he 
started toward the house. He was beaten. 

“ I — I’ll get it,” he flung back over his shoul- 
der. “And then I’ll swear out warrants for 
your arrest. You’re trespassers, that’s what you 
are. I’ll fix you ! ” 

“Trespassers? Oh, no,” returned Andy, 
sweetly. “ We’re only good Samaritans. Per- 
haps you may have read of them in a certain 
book. Also we are acting as the attorneys for 
this gentleman, in collecting a debt due him. We 
are his counsel, and the law allows a man to have 
his counsel present at a hearing. I hardly 
think an action in trespass would lie against us, 
Mr. Snad; so don’t put yourself out about it.” 

“ That’s the stuff!” 

“Good for you, Andy!” 

“Say, you got his number all right!” 

Thus Andy’s chums called to him laughingly 
as the farmer went into the house. 


CHAPTER III 


AN UNPLEASANT PROSPECT 

“ Say, I can’t tell how much obliged to you I 
am,” impulsively exclaimed the young fellow with 

his arm in a sling. “ That — that ” 

“ He’s a brute, that’s what he is ! ” broke out 
Andy. “ Don’t be afraid to call him one.” 

“ He sure is,” came from Tom. “ I just wish 
he’d rough it up a bit. I wouldn’t have asked 
anything better than to take and roll him around 
his own barnyard. Talk about tackling a fellow 
on the gridiron — Oh me ! Oh my ! ” 

“ It was mighty nice of you boys to take my 
part,” went on the young fellow. “ I’m not 
feeling very well. He’s worked me like a horse 
since I’ve been here, and that, on top of sprain- 
ing my arm, sort of took the tucker out of me. 
Then, when he came at me with the whip, just be- 
cause I said I couldn’t work any more ” 

u There, never mind. Don’t think about it,” 
advised Chet, seeing that the youth was greatly 
affected. 


19 


20 


Andy at Yale 

“Do you live around here?” asked Andy. 

“ Well, I don’t live much of anywhere,” was 
the reply. “I’m a sort of Jack-of-all-trades. 
My name is Lincoln Bardon — Link, I’m gener- 
ally called. I work mostly at farming, but I’ll 
never work for Amos Snad again. He’s too 
hard.” 

“ Where are you going after you leave here? ” 
asked Frank Newton. 

“ Oh, I’ve got a friend who works on a farm 
over in Cherry Hollow. I can go there and get 
a place. The farming season is on now, and 
there’s lots of help wanted. But I sure am much 
obliged to you for helping me get my money. 
I’ve earned it and I need it. That mowing ma- 
chine was broken when he had me take it out of 
the shed.” 

“ How’d he come to use the whip?” asked 
Andy. 

“ It was when I came back with the team, and 
said I couldn’t work any more on account of my 
arm. He has a lot of work to do,” explained 
Link, “ and he ought to keep two men. Instead, 
he tries to get along with one, and works him 
like a slave. I’m glad I’m going to quit.” 

“ When I said my arm was hurt he didn’t be- 
lieve me. I insisted. One word led to another 
and he came at me with the lash. Then you 
boys jumped in. I can’t thank you enough.” 


An Unpleasant Prospect 21 

“That’s all right,” said Tom. “We were 
glad to do it. I like a good scrap ! ” 

And to do him justice, he did — a good, clean, 
manly “ scrap.” 

“I wonder if he will bring that money?” re- 
marked Ben Snow. “ He’s gone a long time.” 

“ Oh, he keeps it hidden away in an old boot,” 
replied Link. “ He’ll have to dig it out. But 
don’t let me detain you.” 

“ We like the -fun,” spoke Andy. * “ We’ll 
stick around for a while yet.” 

And, while the boys are thus “ sticking 
around,” may I be permitted to introduce them 
more formally to you, and speak just a word 
about them? 

With their names I think you are already fa- 
miliar. Andy Blair was a tall, good-looking lad, 
with light hair and snapping blue eyes that 
seemed to look right through you. Yet, withal, 
they were merry eyes, and dancing with life. 

Chet Anderson was rather short and stocky, 
not to say fat; but if any of his friends men- 
tioned such a thing Chet was up in arms at once. 
Chet, I might explain, was a contraction for 
Chetfield; the lad being named for his grand- 
father. 

Ben Snow was always jolly. In spite of his 
name he was of a warm and impulsive nature, 
always ready to forgive an injury and continually 


22 


Andy at Yale 

seeking a chance to help someone. Clever, full 
of life and usually looking on the bright side, 
Ben was a humorous relief to his sometimes more 
sober comrades. 

Quiet and studious was Frank Newton, a good 
scholar, always standing well in his class, and yet 
with his full share of fun and sport. He was a 
mainstay on the baseball team, where he had 
pitched many a game to victory. 

With the exception of Tom Hatfield you have 
now met the lads with whom the first part of 
this story is chiefly concerned. Tom was one of 
the nicest fellows you could know. His parents 
were wealthy, but wealth had not spoiled Tom. 
He was happy-go-lucky, of a generous, whole- 
souled nature, always jolly and happy, and yet 
with a temper that at times blazed out and 
amazed his friends. Seldom was it directed 
against any of them; but when Tom spoke 
quietly, with a sort of ring like the clang of 
steel in his voice, then was the time to look out. 

The five lads came from the same town, as 
has been said, and had been friends, more or less, 
all their lives. With their advent at Milton their 
friendship was cemented with that seal which is 
never broken — school-comradeship. You boys 
know this. You men who may chance to read 
this book know it. How many of you, speaking 
of someone, has not at one time said: 


An Unpleasant Prospect 23 

“ Why, he and I used to go to school to- 
gether ! ” 

And is there anything in life better than this — 
an old school chum? It means so much. 

But there. I started to tell a story, and I find 
myself getting off on the side lines. To get back 
into the game: 

Link Bardon had hardly finished telling his 
good Samaritan boy friends of his trouble with 
Mr. Snad, when the burly farmer reappeared. 
Striding up to his hired man — his former em- 
ploye — he thrust some crumpled bills into his 
hand, and growled: 

“ Now you get out of here as fast as you can. 
I’ve seen enough of you ! ” 

“And I may say the same thing!” retorted 
Link. He was getting back his nerve. Perhaps 
Andy and his chums had contributed to this end. 

“ Huh ! Don’t you go to gettin’ fresh ! ” 
snapped Mr. Snad. 

“Don’t let him get your goat!” exclaimed 
Tom, with a cheerful grin. 

“ I’ve had enough of you young upstarts ! ” 
cried the farmer, turning fiercely on Andy and 
his chums. “ Be off ! ” 

“ Wait until we see if Link has his money all 
right,” suggested Andy. “ He might ring in a 
counterfeit bill on you if you don’t watch put.” 
“Bah!” sneered the farmer. 


24 Andy at Yale 

Link counted over his wages. They were all 
right. 

“ Now I’ll get my things and go,” he said, 
calmly. 

“ And don’t you ever come around askin’ me 
for a job,” warned his former employer. 

“ I guess there isn’t much danger,” spoke Tom, 
quietly. “ Come on, fellows. I ’nr hungry enough 
to eat two of Kelly’s steaks.” 

They followed Andy, who again lightly leaped 
the fence into the road. Link went on toward 
the house to pack up his few belongings. He 
waved his hand toward the boys, and they waved 
back. They hardly expected to see him again, 
and certainly Andy Blair never dreamed of the 
strange part the young farmer would play in his 
coming life at Yale. Such odd tricks does fate 
play upon us. 

The Milton lads swung on down the road in 
the direction of Churchtown. It was early even- 
ing by now. 

“ Some doings ! ” commented Chet as he 
slipped his arm into that of Andy. 

“I should say!” exclaimed Ben. u Andy, 
you took the right action that time.” 

“Well, I just couldn’t bear to see that chap, 
with his arm in a sling, being beaten up by that 
brute of a farmer,” was the reply. “ It got my 
dander up.” 


An Unpleasant Prospect 25 

“Same here,” spoke Tom. 

“You’d never know it, from the way you 
acted,” put in Frank. 

“Tom is always worst when he’s quietest,” 
remarked Andy. “Well, now for a good feed. 
Let’s cut through here, hop a car, and get to 
Kelly’s quicker.” 

“ Go ahead, we’re with you,” announced Chet, 
and soon the lads were in the “ eating joint,” as 
they called it. 

“ Broiled steak with French fried potatoes, 
Adolph!” 

“ Yah!” 

“ I want an omelet with green peppers ! ” 

“ Liver and bacon for mine ! ” 

“Ham and eggs! Plenty of gravy!” 

“ Yah!” 

“ Coffee with my order, Adolph ! ” 

“ Yah!” 

“And say, I want some of those rolls with 
moon-seeds on top, Adolph! Don’t forget!” 

“Nein!” 

“And my coffee comes iwith my steak, not 
afterward. Hoch der Kaiser!” 

“ Shure! ” 

“How’s the soup, Adolph?” 

“ Fine und hot! ” 

“That’s good! One on you, Tom!” 

“ Bring me a plate! ” 


26 


Andy at Yale 

“ Oh, say, Adolph, make my order a chop in- 
stead of those ham and eggs.” 

“ Yah!” 

“And, Adolph.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ I want a glass of milk, with a squirt of 
vichy in it. Don’t forget.” 

“Nein, I vunt ! ” 

“ And speed up, Adolph, we’re all in a hurry.” 

“ Shure. You vos allvays in a hurry! ” 

The German waiter scurried away. How he 
ever remembered it all is one of the mysteries 
that one day may be solved. But he never for- 
got, and never made a mistake. 

The boys were seated at a table in one of the 
small rooms of Kelly’s. They stretched out their 
legs and took their ease, for they felt they had 
earned a little relaxation. 

About them in other rooms, in small recesses 
made by the high-backed seats, were other stu- 
dents. There was a calling back and forth. 

“Hello, Spike!” 

“Stick out your head, Bender! ” 

“ Over here, Buster — here’s room ! ” 

“There’s Bunk now!” 

You could not tell who was saying what or 
which, nor to whom, any more than I can. 
Hence the rather disjointed style of the preced- 
ing. But you know what I mean, for you must 


An Unpleasant Prospect 27 

have been there yourself. If not, I beg of you 
to get into some such place where “ good fel- 
lows,” in the truest sense of the word, meet to- 
gether. For where they congregate it is always 
“ good weather,” no matter if it snows or hails, 
or even if the stormy winds do blow — do blow — 
do blow! 

But at last a measure of quietness settled down 
in Kelly’s, and the chatter of voices was suc- 
ceeded by the clatter of knives and forks. 

Then came a reaction — a time when one set- 
tled back on one’s bench, the first tearing edge 
of the appetite dulled. It was at this time that 
Tom Hatfield, leaning over to Andy, said: 

“ And so you are going to Yale?” 

“Yes, I’ve made up my mind.” 

“ Well, I congratulate you. It’s a grand old 
place. Wish I was with you.” 

“Say, Andy!” piped up Chet Anderson, “if 
you go to Yale you’ll meet an old friend of yours 
there.” 

“Who, for the love of bacon?” 

“Mortimer Gaffington!” 

Andy’s knife fell to his plate with a clash that 
caused the other diners to look up hurriedly. 

“Mortimer Gaffington!” gasped our hero. 
“ For cats’ sake ! That’s so. I forgot he went 
to Yale! Oh, wow! Well, it can’t be helped. 
I’ve made my choice!” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE PICTURE SHOW 

Andy’s chums looked curiously at him. Chet’s 
chance remark had brought back to them the 
memory of the old enmity between Andy Blair 
and Mortimer Gaffington, the rich young 
“ sport ” of Dunmore. It was an enmity that 
had happily been forgotten in the joy of life at 
Milton. Now it loomed up again. 

“ That’s right, that cad Mort does hang out 
at New Haven,” remarked Tom. “ That is, he 
did. But maybe they’ve fired him,” he added, 
hopefully. 

u No such luck,” spoke Andy, ruefully. “I 
had a letter from my sister only the other day, 
and she mentioned some) row that Mort had 
gotten into at Yale. Came within an ace of 
being taken out, but it was smoothed over. No, 
I’ll have to rub up against him if I go there.” 

“ Well, you don’t need to have much to do 
with him,” suggested Frank. 

“ And you can just make up your mind that I 
won’t,” spoke Andy. “ I’ll steer clear of him 
from the minute I strike New Haven. But don’t 

28 


The Picture Show 


29 


let’s talk about it. Where’s that waiter, any- 
how? Has he gone out to kill a fatted calf?” 

“ Here he comes,” announced Ben. “ Get a 
move on there, Adolph!” 

“ Yah!” 

“And don’t wait for my French fried pota- 
toes to sprout, either,” added Chet. 

“ Yah, shure not! ” 

“ Oh, look who’s here! ’’ exclaimed Tom, nod- 
ding toward a newcomer. “ Shoot in over here, 
Swipes ! ” he called to a tall lad, whose progress 
through the room was marked by friendly calls 
on many sides. He was a general favorite, 
Harry Morton by name, but seldom called any- 
thing but “ Swipes,” from a habit he had of tak- 
ing or “ swiping” signs, and other mementoes of 
tradesmen about town; the said signs and insig- 
nia of business later adorning his room. 

“Got space?” asked Harry, as he paused at 
the little compartment which held our friends. 

“ Surest thing you know, Swipes. Shove over 
there, Frank. Are you trying to hog the whole 
bench? ” 

“ Not when Swipes is around,” was the retort. 
“ I’ll leave that to him.” 

“ Half-ton benches are a little out of my line,” 
laughed the newcomer, as he found room at the 
table. “ Bring me a rarebit, Adolph, and don’t 
leave out the cheese.” 


30 


Andy at Yale 

“No, sir, Mr. Morton! Ho! ho! Dot’s a 
goot vim! A rarebit mitout der cheese! Ach! 
Dot is goot ! ” and the fat German waiter went 
off chuckling at the old joke. 

“ What’s the matter, Andy, you look as if 
you’d had bad news from your best girl?” asked 
Harry, clapping Andy on the shoulder. “ Cheer 
up, the worst is yet to come.” 

“ You’re right there! ” exclaimed Andy, heart- 
ily. “ The worst is yet to come. I’m going to 
Yale ” 

“ Hurray ! Rah ! rah ! That’s the stuff ! But 
talk about the worst, I can’t see it. I wish I 
were in your rubbers.” 

“ And that dub Mortimer Gaffington is there, 
too,” went on Andy. “That’s the worst.” 

“ I don’t quite get you,” said Harry, in puzzled 
tones. “ Is this Gaffington one of the bulldog 
profs, who eats freshmen alive?” 

“ No, he’s a fellow from our town,” explained 
Andy, “ and he and I are on the outs. We’ve 
been so for a long time. It was at a ball game 
some time ago. Our town team was playing and 
I was catching. Mort was pitching. He accused 
me of deliberately throwing away the game, and 
naturally I went back at him. We had a fight, 
and since then we haven’t spoken. He’s rich, 
and all that, but I don’t like him; not because I 
beat him in a fair fight, either. Well, he went 


The Picture Show 


31 


to Yale last year, and I was glad when he left 
town. Now I’m sorry he’s at Yale, since I’m 
going there. I know he’ll try to make it unpleas- 
ant for me.” 

“ Oh, well, make the best of it,” advised 
Harry, philosophically. “ He can’t last for ever. 
Here comes my eats ! Let’s get busy.” 

“ So Mort will be a sophomore when you get 
to New Haven, will he?” asked Frank of Andy. 

“ He will if he doesn’t flunk, and I don’t sup- 
pose he will. He’s smart enough in a certain 
way. Oh, well, what’s the use of worrying? As 
Harry says, here come the eats.” 

Adolph staggered in with a well-heaped tray 
containing Harry’s order, and he and his chums 
finished their meal talking the while. The even- 
ing wore on, more students dropping in to make 
merry in Kelly’s. A large group formed about 
the nucleus made by Andy and his chums. These 
lads were seniors in the preparatory school, and, 
as such, were looked up to by those who had just 
started the course, or who were finishing their 
first year. In a way, Milton was like a small 
college in some matters, notably in class distinc- 
tion, though it was not carried to the extent it is 
in the big universities. 

“What arc you fellows going to do?” asked 
Harry, as he pushed back his chair. “ I’m feel- 
ing pretty fit now. I haven’t an enemy in the 


32 


Andy at Yale 

world at this moment,” and he sighed in satisfac- 
tion. “That rarebit was sure a bird! Are you 
fellows out for any fun?” 

“ Not to-night,” replied Andy. “ I’m going 
to cut back and write some letters.” 

“ Forget it,” advised Harry. “ It’s early, and 
too nice a night to go to bed. Let’s take in a 
show.” 

“ I’ve got some boning to do,” returned Frank, 
with a sigh. 

“ And I ought to plug away at my Latin,” 
added Chet, with another sigh. 

“ Say, but you fellows are the greasy grinds ! ” 
objected Harry. “Why don’t you take a day 
off once in a while?” 

“It’s easy enough for you, Swipes; Latin 
comes natural to you ! ” exclaimed Tom. “ But I 
have to plug away at it, and when I get through 
I know less than when I started.” 

“ And as for me,” broke in Chet, “ I can read 
a page all right in the original, but when I come 
to translate I can make two pages of it in Eng- 
lish, and have enough Latin words left over to 
do half another one. No, Swipes, it won’t do; 
I’ve got to do some boning.” 

“ Aw, forget it. Come on to a show. There’s 
a good movie in town this week. I’ll blow you 
fellows. Some vaudeville, too, take it from me. 
There’s a pair who roll hoops until the stage 


The Picture Show 


33 


looks like a barrel factory having a tango dance. 
Come on. It’s great! ” 

“ Well, a movie wouldn’t be so bad,” admitted 
Tom. “ It doesn’t last until midnight What 
do you say, fellows?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” came from Andy, uncer- 
tainly. 

“ I’ll go if you fellows will,” remarked Frank. 

“Oh, well, then let’s do it! ” cried Tom. “I 
guess we won’t flunk to-morrow. We can burn a 
little midnight electricity. Let ’er go ! ” 

And so they went to the moving picture show. 
It was like others of its kind, neither better nor 
worse, with vaudeville acts and songs inter- 
spersed between the reels. There was a good 
attendance, scores of the Milton lads being there, 
as well as many persons from the town and sur- 
rounding hamlets. 

Our friends found seats about the middle of 
the house. It was a sort of continuous perform- 
ance, and as they entered a girl was singing a 
song on a well-lighted stage. Andy glanced 
about as he took his seat, and met the gaze of 
Link Bardon. He nodded at him, and the young 
farmer nodded back. 

“Who’s that — a new fellow?” asked Harry, 
who was next to Andy. 

“ Not at school — no. He’s a hired man we 
found being beaten up by an old codger of a 


34 


Andy at Yale 

farmer when we walked out this afternoon. We 
took his part and made the farmer trot Spanish. 
I guess Link is taking a day off with the wages 
we got for him,” and he detailed the incident. 

The show went on. Some of the students be- 
came boisterous, and there were hisses from the 
audience, and demands that the boys remain 
quiet. One lad, who did not train in the set of 
Andy and his friends, insisted on joining in the 
chorus with one of the singers, and matters got 
to such a pass that the manager rang down the 
curtain and threatened to stop the performance 
unless the students behaved. Finally some of the 
companions of the noisy one induced him to quiet 
down. 

Following a long picture reel a girl came out 
to sing. She was pretty and vivacious, though 
her songs were commonplace enough. In one of 
the stage boxes were a number of young fellows, 
not from Milton, and they began to ogle the 
singer, who did not seem averse to their atten- 
tions. She edged over to their box, and threw 
a rose to one of the occupants. 

Gallantly enough he tossed back one he was 
wearing, but at that moment a; companion in 
front of him had raised a lighted match to his 
cigarette. 

The hand of the young man throwing the rose 
to the singer struck the flaring match and sent 



The Picture Show 


35 


it over the rail of the box straight at the flimsy 
skirts of the performer. 

In an instant the tulle had caught fire, and a 
fringe of flame shot upward. 

The singer ceased her song with a scream that 
brought the orchestra to a stop with a crashing 
chord, and the girl’s cries of horror were echoed 
by the women in the audience. The girl started 
to run into the wings, but Andy, springing from 
his seat on the aisle, made a leap for the brass 
rail behind the musicians. 

“ Stand still ! Stand still ! Don’t go back 
there in the draft!” cried Andy, as he jumped 
upon the stage over the head of the orchestra 
leader and began stripping off his coat. 


CHAPTER V 


FINAL DAYS 

“ Fire ! Fire ! ” yelled some foolish ones in 
the audience. 

“Keep still! ” shouted Tom Hatfield, who 
well knew the danger of a panic in a hall with 
few exits. “Keep still! Play something!” he 
called to the orchestra leader, who was staring 
at Andy, dazed at the flying leap of the lad over 
his head. “ Play any old tune! ” 

It was this that saved the day. The leader 
tapped with his violin bow on the tin shade over 
his electric light and the dazed musicians came to 
attention. They began on the number the girl 
had been singing. It was like the irony of fate 
to hear the strains of a sentimental song when 
the poor girl was in danger of death. But the 
music quieted the audience. Men and women 
sank back in their seats, watching with fear- 
widened eyes the actions of Andy Blair. 

And while Tom had thus effectively stopped! 
the incipient panic, Andy had not been idle. 
Working with feverish haste, he had wrapped his 
36 


Final Days 37 

heavy coat about the girl, smothering the flames. 
She was sobbing and screaming by turns. 

“ There ! There ! ” cried Andy. “ Keep quiet. 
I have the fire out. You’re in no danger!” 

“ Oh — oh ! But — but the fire ” 

“ It’s out, I tell you ! ” insisted Andy. “ It was 
only a little blaze ! ” 

He could see tiny tongues of flame where his 
coat did not quite reach, and with swift, quick 
pats of his bare hands he beat them out, burning 
himself slightly. He took good care not to let 
the flames shoot up, so that the frantic girl 
would inhale them. That meant death, and her 
escape had been narrow enough as it was. 

As Andy held the coat closely about her he 
glanced over toward the box whence the match 
had come. He saw the horror-stricken young 
men looking at him and the girl in fascination, 
but they had not been quick to act. After all, 
it was an accident and the fault of no one in 
particular. 

The stage was now occupied by several other 
performers, and the frantic manager. But it 
was all over. Andy patted out the last of the 
smouldering sparks. The girl was swaying and 
he looked up in time to see that she was going 
to faint. 

“ Look out ! ” he cried, and caught her in his 


arms. 


38 


Andy at Yale 

“Back this way! Carry her back here!” 
ordered the manager, motioning to the wings. 
“Keep that music going!” he added to the 
orchestra leader. 

They carried the unfortunate little singer to 
a dressing room, and a doctor was summoned. 
One of the stage hands brought Andy’s coat to 
him. The garment was seared and scorched, 
and rank with the odor of smoke. 

“ If you don’t want to wear it I’ll see Mr. 
Wallack, and get another for you,” offered the 
man. 

“ Oh, this isn’t so bad,” said Andy, slipping 
it on. “ It’s an old one, anyhow.” 

He looked curiously about him. It was the 
first time he had been behind the scenes, though 
there was not as much to observe in this little 
theatre as in a larger one. Beyond the dropped 
curtain he could hear the strains of the music and 
the murmur in the audience. The show had 
come to a sudden ending, and many were de- 
parting. 

As Andy was leaving, to go back to his chums, 
the doctor came in hastily, and hurried to the 
room of the performer. 

“Say, some little hero act, eh, Andy?” ex- 
claimed Chet, as Andy rejoined his friends. 

“Forget it!” was the retort. “Tom, here, 
had his wits about him,” 


39 


Final Days 

“ All right, old man. But you never got down 
the field after a football punt any quicker than 
you hurdled that orchestra leader, and made a 
flying tackle of that singer !” exclaimed Tom, 
admiringly. “ My hat off to you, Andy, old 
boy! ” 

“Same here!” cried Chet. 

The young men in the box were talking to the 
manager, and the one who had knocked the 
lighted match on the stage came over to speak 
to Andy, who was standing with his chums in 
the aisle near their seats. 

“ Thanks, very much, old man ! ” exclaimed 
the chap whose impulsive act had so nearly 
caused a tragedy. “ It was mighty fine of you 
to do that. I had heart failure when I saw her 
on fire.” 

“ You couldn’t help it,” replied Andy. “ They 
ought not to allow smoking in places like 
this.” 

“ That’s right. Next time I throw a rose at a 
girl I’ll look to see what’s going to happen.” 

The theatre was almost deserted by now. All 
that remained to tell of the accident was the smell 
of smoke, and a few bits of charred cloth on the 
stage. 

A man came out in front of the curtain. 

“ Miss Fuller wants to see the young fellow 
who put out the fire,” he announced. 


40 


Andy at Yale 

“That’s you, Andy!” cried his chums. 

“ Aw, I’m not going back there.” 

“Yes, she would like to see you. She wants 
to thank you,” put in the stage manager. “ Come 
along.” 

Rather bashfully Andy went back. He found 
the singer — a mere girl — propped up on a couch. 
Her arms and hands were in bandages, but she 
did not seem to have been much burned. 

“ I’m sorry I can’t shake hands with you,” she 
said, with a smile. She was pale, for the “ make- 
up ” had been washed from her face. 

“ Oh, that’s all right,” responded Andy, a bit 
embarrassed. 

“ It was awfully good and brave of you,” she 
went on, with a catch in her voice. “ I don’t — 
I don’t know how to thank you. I — I just 
couldn’t seem to do anything for myself. It 
was — awful,” and her voice broke. 

“ Oh, it might have been worse,” spoke Andy, 
and he knew that it wasn’t just the thing to say. 
But, for the life of him, he could not fit proper 
words together. “ I’m glad you’re all right, Miss 
Fuller,” he said. He had seen her name on the 
bills — Mazie Fuller. He wondered whether it 
was her right one, or a stage cognomen. At any 
rate, he decided from a casual glance, she was 
very pretty. 

“You must give me your address,” the girl 


Final Days 41 

went on. “ I want to pay for the coat you spoiled 
on my account.” 

“ Oh, that’s all right,” and Andy was con- 
scious that he was blushing. “ It isn’t hurt a bit. 
I’ll have to be going now.” 

“ Oh, you must let me have your name and 
address,” the girl went on. 

“ Oh, all right,” and Andy pulled out a card. 
“ I’m at Milton Prep.,” he added, thinking in a 
flash that he would not be there much longer. 
But then he did not want her to send him a new 
coat. 

“ I’m afraid I’ll have to ask; you to leave 
now,” said the doctor kindly. “She has had 
quite a shock, and I want her to be quiet.” 

“ Sure,” assented Andy, rather glad, on the 
whole, that he could make his escape. One of 
his hands was blistered and he wanted to get 
back to his room and put on some cooling lotion. 
He would not admit this before Miss Fuller, 
for he did not want to cause her any more 
pain 

The girl sank back on a couch as Andy went 
out of the dressing room. But she smiled 
brightly at him, and murmured: 

“ I’ll see you again, some time.” 

“ Sure,” assented the lad. He wondered 
whether she would. 

Then he rejoined his chums and they left the 


42 


Andy at Yale 

theatre. There was a little crowd in front, at- 
tracted by the rumor that an actress had been 
burned. As Andy and his friends made their 
way through the throng to a car he heard some- 
one call: 

“ Dat’s de guy what saved her! ” 

“You’re becoming famous, Andy, my boy!” 
whispered Tom. 

“ Forget it,” advised his chum. 

The boys reached their dormitory with a scant 
minute or so to spare before locking-up time, for 
the rules were rather strict at Milton. There 
were hasty good-nights, promises to meet on the 
morrow, and then quiet settled down over the 
school. 

Andy went to his room, and for a minute, be- 
fore turning on the light, he stood at the window 
looking over the campus. Many thoughts were 
surging through his brain. 

“ It sure has been one full little day,” he 
mused. “ The scrap with the farmer, dousing 
the sparks on that girl, and — deciding on going 
to Yale! 

“Jove, though, but I’m glad I’ve made up my 
mind! Yale! I wonder if I’ll be worthy of it? ” 

Andy leaned against the window and looked 
out to where the moonlight made fantastic shad- 
ows through the big maples on the green. Before 
his eyes came a picture of the elm-shaded quad- 


43 


Final Days 

rangle at Yale, which once he had crossed, hardly 
dreaming then that he would ever go there. 

“Yale! Yale!” he whispered to himself. 
“ What a lot it means ! What a lot it might 
mean! What a lot it often doesn’t signify. Oh, 
if I can only make good there ! ” 

For some time Andy had been vacillating be- 
tween two colleges, but finally he had settled on 
Yale. His parents had left him his choice, and 
now he had made it. 

“ I must write to dad,” he said. “ He’ll want 
to know.” 

It was too late to do it now. They had not 
come back as early as they had intended. The 
bell for “ lights out,” clanged, and Andy hastily 
prepared for bed. 

“ Only a few more days at old Milton,” he 
whispered to himself. “And then for Yale! ” 

The closing days of the term drew nearer. 
Examinations were the order of the day, and 
many were the anxious hearts. There was less 
fun and more hard work. 

Andy wrote home, detailing briefly his deci- 
sion and telling of the affair of the theatre. For 
it got into the papers, and Andy was made quite 
a hero. He wanted his parents to understand 
the true situation. 

A letter of thanks came from the theatre man- 
ager, and with it a pass, good for any time, for 


44 


Andy at Yale 

Andy and his friends. In the letter it was said 
that Miss Fuller was in no danger, and had gone 
to the home of relatives to recover from the 
shock. 

Andy was rather surprised when he received, 
one day, a fine mackinaw coat, of the latest style. 
With it was a note which said: 

“To replace the one you burned.” 

There was no name signed, but he knew from 
whom it came. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE BONFIRE 

“This way, freshmen! This way!” 

“Over here now! No let-outs!” 

“ Keep ’em together, Blink! Don’t let any of 
’em sneak away!” 

“Wood! Everybody bring wood!” 

“Look out for that fellow! He’s a grind! 
He’ll try to skip!” 

“Wood! Everybody get wood! ” 

The cries echoed and re-echoed over the cam- 
pus at Milton. It was the final night of the term. 
The examinations were over and done. Some 
had fallen by the wayside, but Andy and his 
chums were among those elected. 

They had passed, and they were to move on 
out of the preparatory school into the larger life 
of the colleges. 

And, as always was the case on an occasion 
of this kind, a celebration was to mark the clos- 
ing of the school for the long summer vacation. 

The annual bonfire was to be kindled on the 

45 


46 


Andy at Yale 

campus, and about it would circle those lads who 
were to leave the school, while their mates did 
them honor. 

Thus it was that the cries rang out. 

“ Wood! ” 

“ More wood! ” 

“ Most wood ! ” 

The town had been gleaned for inflammable 
material. The ash boxes of not even the oldest 
citizen were sacred on an occasion like this. For 
weeks the heap of wood had accumulated, until 
now there was a towering pile ready for the 
match. 

And still the cries echoed from the various 
quarters. 

“ Freshmen, get wood! ” 

“ On the job, freshmen! ” 

More wood was brought, and yet more. The, 
pile grew. 

“ Gee, this is fierce ! ” groaned a fat fresh- 
man, staggering along under the burden of two 
big boxes. “ Those fellows want too much. 
I’m going to quit! ” 

“ Look out ! Don’t let ’em hear you ! ” warned 
a companion. ** They’ll keep you carting it all 
night if you kick.” 

“Kick! (puff) Kick! (puff) I ain’t got wind 
enough to do any kickin’. I’m (puff) all (puff) 
in!” 


The Bonfire 


47 


“ Oh, well, it’s all in the game. We’ll be out 
of this class next term, and we can watch the 
other fellows sweat! Cut along!” 

“Wood! Wood over here ! ” 

“Where’s Andy Blair?” 

“ I don’t know. Oh you Swipes ! What you 
got!” 

“All right! This’ll make a flare, all right! ” 
“Oh, for the love of Peter! Look what 
Swipes has ! ” 

Harry, otherwise “ Swipes ” Morton, was com 
voying four laboring and perspiring freshmen 
who were carting over the campus a big box that 
had once contained a piano. 

‘^Oh, you Swipes ! ” 

“ Where’d you crab that? ” 

“Say, ain’t he the little peach, though! ” 

“Oh wow! What a lark!” 

“ I guess this won’t make some nifty little 
blaze, eh?” demanded Harry. “Eh, Andy?” 
“ Sure thing! Where’d you get it? ” 

“ Over back of Hanson’s store. He used it 
for a coal box, but I made these boobs dump out 
the anthracite and cart it along. Maybe I 
ain’t some nifty little wood gatherer, eh?” 

“You sure are, Swipes!” came the admiring 
retort from many voices. 

“ Wood! ” 

“ More wood ! ” 


48 


Andy at Yale 

Still the pile grew apace. And with it grew 
the fun, the jollity, the excitement, the cries and 
the spirit of the school. 

Dr. Morrison, the head master, and his 
teachers, had wisely retired to their rooms. On 
such an occasion as this it is not wise on the part 
of discerning professors to see too much. There 
are matters to which one must shut one’s eyes. 
And Dr. Morrison, from contact with many boys, 
was wise in his day and generation. 

For he knew it would be only honest, clean fun; 
and what matter if there was much noise and 
shouting? What matter if the fire blazed high? 
The boys never so far forgot themselves as to 
endanger the school buildings by their beacon, 
which was kindled well out on the big campus. 

What if numerous rules were cracked or 
broken? It only happened once a year. And 
what if ginger pop and sandwiches were surrepti- 
tiously introduced into the dormitories? That, 
too, need not be seen by the authorities. 

“Wood! More wood!” 

“Where’s Tom Hatfield?” 

“ Yes, and Chet Anderson?” 

“ Over here boys ! ” 

“Heads up!” 

“Slap on Swipes’s piano box!” 

“Oh, what a find!” 

You could not have told who was saying which 


The Bonfire 49 

or what. It was all one happy, unintelligible 
jumble. 

“ Light her up!” 

It was the signal for the kindling of the fire. 

A score of matches flared in the darkness of 
the June night. The straw and paper piled un- 
der the chaos of wood blazed with puffs of flame. 
The wood caught and the tongues of fire leaped 
high, bringing into bold relief the faces of the 
lads who joined hands and circled about the 
ruddy beacon. 

“Hurray!” 

“That’s the stuff!” 

“Let her burn!” 

“ Say, that’s a dandy, all right ! ” 

“ Biggest in years ! ” 

“ Well, we want to give the boys a good send- 
off!” 

“Look at old Swipes’s piano box sizzle!” 

The shouting and excitement grew. The fire 
blazed higher and higher. The campus was 
bright with yellow gleams. 

“ Here’s good-bye to old Milton ! ” chanted 
Andy. 

“ That’s right ! Good-bye to the old school ! ” 
echoed Chet, and there was not much joy in his 
tones. 

“Now, fellows, the old song. ‘Milton For- 
ever I’ ” called Ben, and the melody burst forth. 


50 


Andy at Yale 

Hardly was it finished than the silence that 
succeeded was broken by the strident tooting of 
an auto horn. 

“What’s that?” cried Andy. “Who’s com- 
ing here in a car? ” 

“ On the campus, too ! It’s against the 
rules ! ” cried Chet. 

“ It’s some fresh fellow from town trying to 
butt in,” someone called. 

“Come on!” yelled Andy. “We’ll upset 
him, fellows! The nerve of him! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


LINK AGAIN 

There was a rush of the celebrating seniors 
toward the place where the disturbance arose. 
Then others left the big bonfire to see the fun. 

An automobile horn tooted discordantly — de- 
fiantly, Andy thought. 

“Who has had the nerve to come in here, of 
all nights — on the one when we have our fire? ” 
he thought. “It can’t be any of the freshmen; 
they wouldn’t dare.” 

“What are you going to do?” asked Ben in 
Andy’s ear, as he trotted beside his chum. 

“ We’ll upset his apple cart — that’s the least 
we’ll do, for one thing.” 

“ I should say yes ! ” chimed in Chet. 
“Surely!” 

They had now reached the spot where, from 
all appearances, was located the center of dis- 
turbance. A crowd of the freshmen, whose la- 
bors in gathering wood for the fire had now 
ceased, were gathered around a large touring 
car that, in defiance of all rules and customs, 
Si 


52 Andy at Yale 

had been run to the very center of the school 
campus. 

“ Come down out of that! ” 

“ Get away from here ! ” 

“You fellows have nerve!” 

“ Puncture their tires ! ” 

These are only a few of the cries and threats 
hurled at those in the auto — four young fellows 
who seemed anxious to make trouble not only for 
themselves, but for the school boys, whose cele- 
bration they had interrupted. 

The campus was a sort of sacred place. It 
stood in the midst of the school buildings and 
dormitories, and, though visitors were always 
welcome, there was a rule against vehicles cross- 
ing it, for the turf was the pride not only of the 
students, but the faculty as well. So it is no won- 
der that the sight of a heavy auto rolling over 
the lawn aroused the ire of all. 

“ Get out of the way there, you fellows, if you 
don’t want to be run over ! ” snapped the youth 
at the steering wheel of the auto. “ I’ll smash 
through you in another minute ! ” 

“Oh, you will, eh?” 

“Isn’t he the sassy little boy!” 

“Yank him out of there! ” 

The freshmen surrounding the auto thus re- 
viled those in the car. 

The auto had come to a stop, but the engine 


53 


Link Again 

was still running, free from the gears. Now and 
then, as he saw an opening, the lad at the wheel 
would slip in his clutch and the car would advance 
a few feet. Then more of the school boys would 
swarm about it, and progress would be impeded. 

“Smash through ’em, old man!” advised one 
on the rear seat. “ We don’t want to stay here 
all night! ” 

“That’s right; run ’em down,” advised his 
companion. “We’re — we’re — what are we, 
anyhow? ” he asked, and it did not need a look 
at him to tell the cause of his condition. In fact, 
all in the auto were in a rather hilarious state, 
and the running of the car over the campus had 
been the result of a suggestion made after a too- 
long lingering in a certain road-house, where 
stronger stuff than ginger ale was dispensed. 

“We’re all right — noshin matter us,” de- 
claimed one. “ Run ’em down, ole man! ” 

“Look out! I’m going through you!” cried 
the lad at the wheel. The freshmen in front of 
the car parted instinctively, but before the young 
chauffeur could put his threat into execution, 
Andy and his chums had reached the machine. 

“ Get out of here ! ” cried Andy, and, reaching 
up, he fairly pulled the steersman from his seat. 
The chap came down in a rush, nearly upsetting 
Andy, who, however, managed to yank the lad to 
his feet 


54 


Andy at Yale 

“ Pull ’em all out! ” came the cry from Tom, 
and a moment later he, with the aid of Ben, Chet 
and Frank, had pulled from the car the other 
young men, who seemed too dazed to resist. 

“ Hop in that car, Peterson,” ordered Andy, 
to a freshman who could operate an auto. “ Run 
it out to the street and leave it. Then we’ll 
rush these chaps out to it and chuck ’em in. 
We’ll show ’em what it means to run over our 
campus.” 

All this time Andy had kept hold of the collar 
of the youth whom he had pulled from the car. 
Then the latter turned about, and raised his fist. 
He had been taken so by surprise that he at first 
had seemed incapable of action. 

At this moment the big bonfire flared up 
brightly, and by its glare Andy had a look at the 
face of the lad with whom he had clashed. The 
sight caused him suddenly to drop his hold and 
exclaim : 

“ Mortimer Gaffington! ” 

“ Huh! So it’s you, is it, Andy Blair? What 
do you mean by acting this way?” demanded 
Mortimer, the shock of whose rough handling 
had seemed to sober temporarily. “ What do 
you mean? I demand an apology! That’s 
what I do. Ain’t I ’titled to ’pology, fellers?” 
and he appealed to his chums. 

“ Sure you are. Make the little beggar ’polo- 


55 


Link Again 

gize!” leered one. “If he was at Yale, now, 
we’d haze him good and proper.” 

“Yale!” cried Tom Hatfield. “Yale fires 
out such fellows as you ! ” 

“Mortimer Gaffington!” gasped Andy. “I 
rather wish this hadn’t happened. Or, rather I 
wish it had been anyone but he. I can see where 
this may lead.” 

“You goin’ ’pologize?” asked Mortimer, try- 
ing to fix a stern gaze on Andy. 

“Apologize! Certainly not!” cried Andy, in- 
dignantly. “ It is you fellows who ought to 
apologize. What would you do if some one ran 
an auto over Yale Campus? ” 

“Ho! Ho! That’s good. That’s rich, that 
is! ” laughed one who had been yanked out of 
his seat by Tom Hatfield. “ That’s a good joke, 
that is! An auto on Yale campus! Why we 
bulldogs would eat it up, that’s what we’d do ! ” 
“ Well, that’s what we’ll do here ! ” cried Chet, 
angered by the supercilious tone of the lad. 
“ Come on, boys; run ’em off Spanish fashion! ” 
It needed but this suggestion to further rouse 
the feelings of the Milton lads, and in an instant 
several of them had grabbed each of the tres- 
passers. Andy stepped back from Mortimer. 
Because of the already strained relations between 
himself and this society “ swell,” he did not wish 
to take a part in the proceedings, 


56 Andy at Yale 

“ Come on! Run ’em off!” was the rallying 
cry. 

The auto had already been steered out on a 
road that circled the campus, and was soon in the 
street. Then, heading their victims toward the 
old gateway that formed the chief entrance to 
the school the Milton lads began running out the 
intruders. 

“You wait! I — I’ll fix you for this, — Andy 
Blair! ” threatened Mortimer as he was rapidly 
propelled over the campus. 

“ Forget it! ” advised Chet. “Rush ’em, fel- 
lows ! ” 

And rushed off Mortimer and his companions 
were. They were fairly tossed into their auto, 
and then, with jeers and shouted advice not to 
repeat the trick, the school boys turned back to 
their fire. 

Andy had lingered near the spot where he had 
hauled Mortimer out of the auto. He was think- 
ing of many things. He did not forget what 
had happened to the intruders. Indeed it was 
nothing short of what they deserved, for they 
had deliberately tried to harass the school boys, 
and make a mockery of one of the oldest tra- 
ditions of Milton — one that held inviolate the 
beautiful campus. 

“ Only I wish it had been someone else than 
I who got hold of Mort,” mused Andy. “ He’ll 


57 


Link Again 

he sure to remember it when I get to Yale, and 
he’ll have it in for me. He can make a lot of 
trouble, too, I reckon. Well, it can’t be helped. 
They only got what was coming to ’em.” 

With this thought Andy consoled himself, but 
he had an uneasy feeling for all that. The stu- 
dents came trooping back, after having disposed 
of Mortimer and his crowd. 

“You missed the best part of the fun,” said 
Chet to Andy. “ Those fellows thought a cy- 
clone struck them when we tossed ’em into the 
car. They don’t know yet whether they’re going 
or coming back,” and he laughed, his mates join- 
ing in. 

“Yes?” asked Andy, non-committally. 

“What’s up?” asked Tom, curiously. “You 
don’t act as though it had any flavor for you. 
What’s the matter?” 

“ Oh, well — nothing,” said Andy. “ Come 
on, let’s get back to the fire, and have a last song. 
Then I’m going to pack. I want to leave on 
that early train in the morning.” 

“ Same here. Come on, boys. Whoop her 
up once more for Old Milton, and then we’ll 
say good-bye.” 

“ I know what ails Andy,” spoke Tom in a low 
tone to Frank, walking along arm in arm with 
him. 

“What?” 


58 


Andy at Yale 

“ It’s about that fello'w Gaffington. Andy’s 
sorry he had a run-in with him, and I don’t blame 
Andy. He had trouble before, and this will only 
add to it. And that Gaffington is just mean 
enough, and small-spirited enough, to make 
trouble for Andy down there at Yale. He’s a 
sport — but one of the tin-horn brand. I don’t 
blame Andy for wishing it had been someone 
else.” 

“ Oh, well, here’s hoping,” said Frank. “ We 
all have our troubles.” 

“ But those fellows won’t trouble us again to- 
night,” declared Chet, laughing. “ They’ll be 
glad to go home and get in bed.” 

“ Did you know any of ’em, Andy, except Gaf- 
fington?” asked Tom. 

“ No, the others were strangers to me.” 

“ How do you reckon they got here, all the 
way from New Haven?” 

“Oh, they didn’t come from Yale,” declared 
Andy. “ The university closed last week, you 
know. Probably Mort had some of his chums 
out to visit him in Dunmore. That was his car. 
And he wanted to show ’em the sights, and let 
’em see he could run all over little Milton, so he 
brought ’em out here. It isn’t such a run from 
Dunmore, you know.” 

“ I reckon that’s it,” agreed Tom. “ Well, 
they got more than they were looking for, that’s 


Link Again 59 

one consolation. Now boys, whoop her up for 
the last time.” 

Again they gathered about the blazing fire, and 
sang their farewell song. 

The annual celebration was drawing to a close. 
Another group of lads would leave Milton to go 
out into the world, mounting upward yet another 
step. From then on the ways of many who had 
been jolly good comrades together would di- 
verge. Some might cross again; others be as 
wide apart as the poles. 

The lire died down. The big piano box com- 
mandeered by “ Swipes ” was but a heap of ashes. 
The fun was over. 

There were cheers for the departing senior 
lads, who, in turn, cheered the others who would 
take their places. Then came tributes to the 
industrious freshmen. 

“Good night! Good night! Good night!” 
was shouted on all sides. 

Less and less brilliant grew the fire. Now it 
was but a heap of glowing coals that would soon 
be gray, dead and cold ashes, typical in a way, of 
the passing of the senior boys. And yet, phcenix- 
like, from these same ashes would spring up a 
new fire — a fire in the hearts that would never 
die out. Such are school friendships. 

Of course there were forbidden little feasts in 
the various rooms to mark the close of the term 


60 


Andy at Yale 

— spreads to which monitors, janitors and pro- 
fessors discreetly closed their eyes. 

Andy and his friends gathered in his apartment 
for a last chat. They were to journey to their 
home town on the morrow and then would soon 
separate for the long summer vacation. 

“Well, it was a rare old celebration! ” sighed 
Tom, as he flopped on the bed. 

44 It sure was! ” agreed Chet, with conviction. 
44 1 hope I have as much fun as this if I go to 
Harvard.” 

44 Same here, only I think I’ll make mine 
Princeton,” added Ben. 44 Oh, but it’s sort of 
hard to leave Milton! ” 

44 Right you are,” came from Andy, who was 
opening ginger ale and soda water. 

And, after a time, quiet settled down over the 
school, and Dr. Morrison and his colleagues 
breathed freely again. Milton had stood stead- 
fast through another assault of 44 bonfire night. ” 

The next morning there were confused good- 
byes, multiplied promises to write, or to call, vows 
never to forget, and protestations of eternal 
friendship. There were arrangements made for 
camping, boating, tramping and other forms of 
vacation fun. There were dates made for assem- 
bling next year. There was a confused rushing 
to and fro, a looking up of the time of trains, 
hurried searches for missing baggage. 


61 


Link Again 

And, after much excitement, Andy and his 
chums found themselves in the same car bound 
for Dunmore. They settled back in their seats 
with sighs of relief. 

“ Hear anything more of Mort and his 
crowd ?” asked Tom of Andy. 

“ Not a thing.” 

“ I did,” spoke Chet. “ They were nearly ar- 
rested for making a row in town after we got 
through with ’em.” 

u Hum! ” mused Andy. “ I s’pose Mort will 
blame me for that, too. Well, no use worrying 
until I have to.” 

At Churchtown, where the train stopped to 
give the boys at least a last remembrance of 
Kelly’s place, several passengers got on. Among 
them was a young man who seemed familiar to 
Andy and his chums. A second look confirmed 
it. 

“ Why, that’s the Bardon chap we took away 
from that farmer!” exclaimed Frank. 

‘‘That’s right!” cried Andy. “Hello, 
Link!” he called genially. “What you doing 
here?” 

“Oh, how are you?” asked the farm lad. 
“ Glad to see you all again,” and he nodded to 
each one in turn. He did not at all presume on 
his acquaintance with them, and was about to 
pass on, when Andy said: 


62 


Andy at Yale 

“ Sit down. How’s your arm ? ” 

“ Oh much better, thank you. I’ve been work- 
ing steadily since you helped me.” 

“ That’s good. Where are you bound for 
now?” went on And}'. 

“ Why, I’m going to look up an uncle of mine 
I haven’t seen in years. I hear he has a big 
farm, and I thought I’d like to work for him.” 

“Where is it?” asked Andy. 

“ In a place called Wickford, Connecticut.” 

“ Wickford! ” exclaimed Andy. “ Why that’s 
near New Haven, and Yale — where I’m going 
this fall. Maybe I’ll see you there, Link.” 

“ Maybe,” assented the young farmer, and 
then, declining Andy’s invitation to sit with the 
school lads, he passed on down the car aisle. 


CHAPTER VIII 


OFF FOR YALE 

Andy Blair had signed for Yale University. 
He had, as before noted, communicated to his 
father his desire to attend the New Haven in- 
stitution, and Mr. Blair, who had given his son a 
free hand in the matter, had acquiesced. 

Milton was well known among the various 
preparatory schools, and her final examinations 
admitted to Yale with few other formalities. So 
Andy had no trouble on that score, save in a few 
minor matters, which were easily cleared up. 

He had matriculated, and all that remained 
was to select a room or dormitory. He had been 
studying over a Yale catalog, and looking at the 
accompanying map which gave the location of the 
various buildings. 

“Now the question is,” said Andy, talking it 
over with the folks at home, “ the question is do I 
want to go to a private house and room, or had I 
better take a place in one of the Halls. I rather 
like the idea of a Hall room myself — Wright for 
choice — but of course that might cost more than 
going to a private house.” 

63 


64 


Andy at Yale 

“ If it’s a question of cost, don’t let that stand 
in the way,” replied Mr. Blair, generously. “ I’m 
not given to throwing money away, Andy, my 
boy, and a college education isn’t a cheap thing, 
no matter how you look at it. But it’s worth all 
it costs, I believe, and I want you to have the 
best. 

“ If you can get more into the real life of Yale 
by having a room in Wright Hall, or in any of 
the college dormitories, why do so. There’s 
something in being right on the ground, so to 
speak. You can absorb so much more.” 

“ Good for you, Dad! ” cried Andy. “ You’re 
a real sport. Then I vote for a Hall. I’ll take 
a run down and see what I can arrange.” 

“But wouldn’t a private house be quieter?” 
suggested Mrs. Blair. “ You know you’ll have 
to do lots of studying, Andy, and if you get in a 
big building with a lot of other students they may 
annoy you.” 

“ Oh, I guess, Mother,” said Bertha, Andy’s 
sister, “ that he’ll do his share of annoying, too.” 

“ Come again, Sis. Get out your little ham- 
mer, and join the anvil chorus!” sarcastically 
commented Andy. 

“ No, but really,” went on Mrs. Blair, 
“wouldn’t a private house be quieter, Andy?” 

“ Not much more so, I believe,” spoke the 
prospective Yale freshman. “ When there’s 


Off for Yale 


65 


any excitement going on those in the private 
houses get as much of it as those in the college 
buildings. But, as a matter of fact, when there’s 
nothing on — like a big game or some of the 
rushes — Yale is as quiet as the average Sunday 
school. 

“ Why, the day I was there I walked all around 
and nothing happened. The fellows came and 
went, and seemed very quiet, not to say meek. I 
walked over the campus, and I expected every 
minute some big brute of a sophomore would 
smash my hat down over my eyes, and give a 
‘ Rah ! Rah ! ’ yell. But nothing like that hap- 
pened. It was sort of disappointing.’* 

u Well, you need quiet if you’re going to 
study,” went on Mrs. Blair. She had an idea 
that Yale was a sort of higher-grade boarding 
school, it seemed. 

“ Then I’ll decide on Wright Hall,” remarked 
Andy. “ That is, if I can get in.” 

Then followed some correspondence which re- 
sulted in Andy being informed that a room on 
the campus side of Wright Hall, and on the sec- 
ond floor, was available. The only trouble was 
that it was a double room, and Andy would have 
to share it with another student. 

“Hum!” he exclaimed when he had this in- 
formation. “Now I’m up against it once more. 
Who can I get to go in with me ? I don’t want 


66 Andy at Yale 

to take a total stranger, and yet I guess I’ll have 
to.” 

u You might advertise for a room-mate? ” sug- 
gested his mother. 

“ I guess they don’t do things that way at 
Yale,” spoke Andy, with a smile. 

“ Why don’t you wait until you get there, and 
maybe you’ll find somebody in the same fix you 
are? ” asked Bertha. 

“ I guess that is good advice,” remarked 
Andy. “ I’ll take a run down there some time 
before term opening, and maybe I can get some 
nice chap wished on me. If Tom, or Chet, or 
some of the Milton lads, were coming to Yale it 
would be all right.” 

“Didn’t any of them pick out Yale?” asked 
Mr. Blair. 

“Not as far as I know.” 

“ Oh, well, I guess you’ll make out all right, 
son. A good room-mate is a fine companion to 
have, so I hope you won’t be disappointed. But 
there’s no hurry.” 

The long summer vacation was at hand. 
Andy’s people were to go to a lake resort, and 
soon after coming home from Milton, Andy, 
with his mother and sister, was installed in a 
comfortable cottage. Mr. Blair would come up 
over week-ends. 

Chet Anderson and Tom Hatfield were at a 


Off for Yale 


67 


nearby resort, so Andy knew he was in for a good 
summer of fun. And he was not disappointed. 
He and his chums spent much time on the water, 
living in their bathing suits for whole days at a 
time. But I will not weary you with a descrip- 
tion of the various things they did. Sufficient to 
say that the vacation was like a good many 
others Andy had enjoyed, and expected to enjoy 
again. Nothing in particular happened. 

The Summer wore on. The dog-days came 
and there loomed in the distance the Fall months. 
Tom had called on Andy one day, and they went 
out in the canoe together. 

“ Well, it will soon be study-grind again,” re- 
marked Tom, as he sent the light boat under a 
fringe of bushes out of the sun. 

“Yes, and I won’t be sorry,” spoke Andy. 
“ I’m anxious to see what life at Yale is like. 
I’ve got to take a run down in a week or so, to 
fix u£ about my room. You haven’t heard of 
anyone I know who is going to be a freshman 
there; do you? ” 

“No, but I saw an old friend of yours the 
other day.” 

“You did! Who?” 

“ Remember that little actress you did the fire- 
man-save-my-child act for this Spring?” 

“Miss Fuller? Sure I do. Did you see 
her?” 


68 


Andy at Yale 


“ I did.” 

“Where?” 

“ Oh, at a vaudeville theater. She [remem- 
bered me, too.” 

“ Did she ask for me? ” 

“ Naturally. I told her you were going to 
Yale, and she said she might see you there.” 

“How?” 

“ Why, she’s playing a couple of weeks early 
in October at Poli’s. You want to look her up.” 

“ I sure will. You saw the mackinaw she sent 
me?” 

“Yes, it’ll come in handy for Yale. I wish I 
was with you, but I’m wished on to Cornell — 
I yell!” 

“ Oh, well, we can’t all go to the same place, 
but it sure would be fine if we could.” 

Then they began to talk of the old days at 
Milton, until the shadows lengthened over the 
lake and it was time to paddle back to the cottage. 

Andy took a run down to New Haven the next 
week, and made his final arrangements. He was 
walking about the now deserted quadrangle, look- 
ing up at the window of the room he had selected 
in Wright Hall, when he was aware that a youth 
of his own age was doing the same thing. 

Something seemed to attract Andy to this 
stranger. There was a frank, open, ingenuous 
look in his face that Andy liked. And there was 


Off for Yale 


69 


that in the air and manner of the lad which told 
he came of no common stock. His clothing be- 
tokened the work of a fashionable tailor, though 
the garments were quiet, and just a shade off the 
most up-to-date mode. 

“ Are you a student here? ” asked the stranger 
of Andy. 

“ No, but I expect to be. I’m going to start 
in.” 

“ So am I. Chamber is my name — Duncan 
Chamber, though I’m always called Dunk for 
short.” 

“ Glad to know you. My name’s Blair — 
Andy Blair.” 

They shook hands, and then followed the usual 
embarrassed pause. Neither knew what to say 
next. Finally Duncan broke the silence by ask- 
ing: 

“ Got your room yet? ” 

“ Up there,” and Andy pointed to it. 

“ Gee! That’s all right — a peach! I’m up a 
stump myself.” 

“ How so?” 

“ Well, I’ve about taken one in Pierson Hall, 
but it’s a double one, and I’ve got to share it with 
a fellow I don’t take much of a leaning to. He’s 
a stranger to me. I like it better here, though. 
Better view of the campus.” 

Andy took a sudden resolve. 


70 


Andy at Yale 

“ I’m about in the same boat,” he said. “ That’s 
a double room of mine up there in Wright, and 
I haven’t a chum- yet. I don’t know what to do. 
Of course I’m a stranger to you, but if you’d 
like to share my joint ” 

“ Friend Andy, say no more ! ” interrupted 
Duncan. “ Lead me to thy apartment! ” 

Andy laughed. He was liking this youth more 
and more every minute. 

The room was inspected. Andy was still the 
only one who had engaged it. 

“ It suits me to a T if I suit you,” exclaimed 
Duncan. “What do you say, Blair? Shall we 
hitch it up? ” 

“ I’m willing.” 

“Shake!” ' 

They shook. Thus was the pact made, a 
union of friends that was to have a strange effect 
on both. 

“ Now that’s settled I’ll call the Pierson game 
off,” said Dunk, as we shall call him from now 
on. “ I’m wished onto you, Blair.” 

“ I’m glad of it! ” 

The final arrangements were made, and thus 
Andy had his new room-mate. They went to 
dinner together, and planned to do all sorts of 
possible and impossible things when the term 
should open. 

Andy returned to the Summer cottage with the 


Off for Yale 


71 


good news, and then began busy days for him. 
He replenished his stock of clothes and other 
possessions and selected his favorite bats and 
other sporting accessories with which to decorate 
his room. He had a big pennant enscribed with 
the name MILTON, and this was to drape one 
side wall. Dunk Chamber was from Andover, 
and his school colors would flaunt themselves on 
the opposite side of the room. 

And then the day came. 

Andy, spruce and trim in a new suit, had 
sent on his trunk, and, with his valise in hand, 
bade his parents and sister good-bye. 

The family was still at the summer cottage, 
which would not be closed for another month. 
Then they would go back to Dunmore. 

Yale was calling to Andy, and one hazy Sep- 
tember morning he took the train that, by dint 
of making several changes, would land him in 
New Haven. 

“And at Yale! ” murmured Andy as the en- 
gine puffed away from the dingy station. “ I’m 
off for Yale at last! ” 


CHAPTER IX 


ON THE CAMPUS 

Andy's train rolled into the New Haven sta- 
tion shortly before dusk. On the way the new 
student had been surreptitiously “ sizing up ” 
certain other young men in the car with him, try- 
ing to decide whether or not they were Yale stu- 
dents. One was, he had set that down as cer- 
tain — a quiet, studious-looking lad, who seemed 
poring over a book and papers. 

Then Andy, making an excuse to get a drink of 
water, passed his seat and looked at the docu- 
ments. They were a mass of bills which the 
young man evidently had for collection. 

“Stung!” murmured Andy. “But he sure 
did look like a Yale senior.” He was yet to 
learn that college men are not so different from 
ordinary mortals as certain sensational writers 
would have had him believe. 

There was the usual bustle and rush of alight- 
ing passengers. Now indeed Andy was sure that 
a crowd of students had come up on the train 
with him for, once out of the cars their exuber- 
ance manifested itself. 


72 


73 


On the Campus 

There were greetings galore from one to an- 
other. Renewals of past acquaintance came 
from every side. There were hearty clappings 
on the backs of scores and scores, and re-clap- 
pings in turn. 

Youths were tumbling out here, there, every- 
where, colliding with one another, bumping up 
against baggage trucks, running through the sta- 
tion, one or two stopping to snatch a hasty cup of 
coffee and some doughnuts from the depot restau- 
rant. 

Andy stood almost lost for the moment amid 
the excitement. It had come on suddenly. He 
had never dreamed there were so many Yale men 
on the train. They gave no evidence of it until 
they had reached their own precincts. 

Then, like a dog that hesitates to bark until he 
is within the confines of his own yard, they “ cut 
loose.” 

Taxicab chauffeurs were bawling for custom- 
ers. Hackmen with ancient horses sent out their 
call of: 

“ Keb ! Keb ! Hack, sir! Have a keb ! ” 

The motor bus of the Hotel Taft was being 
jammed with prosperous looking individuals. 
Around the curve swept the clanging trolley cars. 

“ I guess I’ll walk,” mused Andy. “ I want to 
get my mind straightened out.” 

He managed to locate an expressman to whom 


74 


Andy at Yale 

he gave the check for his trunk, with directions 
where to send it. Then, gripping his valise, 
which contained enough in the way of clothing 
and other accessories to see him through the 
night, in case his baggage was delayed, our hero 
started up State Street. 

In the distance he could see, looming up, the 
lighted top stories of the Hotel Taft, and he 
knew that from those same stories one could 
look down on the buildings and campus at Yale. 
It thrilled him as he had not been thrilled before 
on any of his visits to this great American uni- 
versity. 

He paid no attention to those about him. The 
sidewalks, damp with the hazy dew of the coming 
September night, were thronged with pedestrians. 
Many of them were college students, as Andy 
could tell by their talk. 

On he swung, breathing in deep of the air of 
dusk. He squared back his shoulders and raised 
his head, widening his nostrils to take in the air, 
as his eyes and ears absorbed the other impres- 
sions of the place. 

Past the stores, the hotels, the moving picture 
places Andy went, until he came to where Chapel 
Street cuts across State. At the corner a confec- 
tionery store thrust out its rounded doorway, 
and in the windows were signs of various foun- 
tain drinks. 


On the Campus 75 

“ A hot chocolate wouldn’t be so bad,” thought 
Andy. “ It’s a bit chilly.” 

He went in rather diffidently, wondering if 
some of the pretty girls lined up along the marble 
counter knew that he was a Yale man. 

He heard a titter of laughter and grew red 
behind the ears, fearing it might be directed 
against him. 

But no one seemed to notice him, the girl who 
passed him out his check making change as non- 
chalantly as though he was but the veriest trav- 
eling man instead of a Yale student. 

“Very blase, probably,” thought Andy, with 
a sense of resentment. 

He stood on the steps a moment as he came 
out, and then walked toward the Green, with 
its great elm trees, now looming mistily in the 
September haze. 

Three churches on Temple street seemed to 
stand as a sort of guard in front of the college 
buildings that loomed behind them. Three si- 
lent and closed churches they were. 

Up Chapel street walked Andy, and he came 
to a stop on College street, opposite Phelps 
Gateway. Through the gathering dusk he could 
make out the inscription over it: 

LUX ET VERITAS 


That’s it! That’s what I came here for,” 


76 Andy at Yale 

he said. “ Light .and truth! Oh, but it’s great! 
Great!” 

He drew in a long breath, and stood for a 
moment contemplating the beautiful outlines of 
the college buildings. 

“Oh, but Fm glad I’m here!” he whispered. 

Other students were pouring through the 
classic gateway. Andy crossed the street and 
joined them. Already lights were beginning to 
glow in Lawrance and Farnam Halls, where the 
sophomores had their rooms. Andy could see 
some of them lolling on cushions in their window 
seats. Yale blue cushions, they were. 

He passed in through the gateway, his foot- 
steps clanging back to his ears, reflected by the 
arch overhead. He emerged onto the campus, 
and started across it toward Wright Hall, with 
its raised courtyard, and its curtained windows of 
blue. 

“I wonder if Dunk is there yet?” thought 
Andy. “Hope he is. Oh, it’s Yale at last! 
Yale! Yale!” 

He breathed in deep of the night air. He 
looked at the shadows of the electric lights of 
the campus filtering through the trees. He 
paused a moment. 

A confusion of sounds came to him. Outside 
the quadrangle in which he stood he could hear 
the hum of the busy city — the clang of trolleys, 


77 


On the Campus 

the clatter of horses, the hoarse croak of auto 
horns. Within the precincts of the college build- 
ings he could hear the hum of voices. Now and 
then came the tinkle of a piano or the vibration 
of a violin. Then there were shouts. 

“Oh, you, Pop! Stick out your head!” 

The call of one student to another. 

“I wonder if they’ll ever call me?” mused 
Andy. 

He started across the campus. Coming to- 
ward him were several dark figures. Andy met 
them under a light, and started back. Before 
he had a chance to speak someone shouted at 
him: 

“ There he is now! The freshest of the fresh! 
Take off that hat! ” 

It was Mortimer Gaffington. 


CHAPTER X 


MISSING MONEY 

For a moment Andy stood there, not knowing 
what to do or say. It was so unexpected, and 
yet he knew he must meet Mortimer at Yale — 
meet and perhaps clash with the lad who was 
now a sophomore — the lad who had such good 
cause now to dislike Andy. 

On his part the young “ swell ” leered into 
Andy’s face, then glanced sidelong at the youths 
who accompanied him. Andy recognized them 
a9 the same who had been in the auto that night 
of the bonfire at Milton. 

“That’s he!” exclaimed Mortimer; then to 
Andy: “I didn’t think I’d meet you quite so 
soon, Blair! So you’re here, eh?” 

“Yes,” answered Andy. 

“ Put a ‘sir’ on that! ” commanded one of the 
other lads. 

“ Yes— sir!” 

Andy took his own time with the last word. 
He knew the rites and customs of Yale, at least 
by hearsay, and was willing to abide by the un- 

78 


79 


Missing Money 

written laws that make a first-year man demean 
himself to the upper classmen. It would not last 
long. 

“ That’s better,” commented the third lad. 
“Never forget your manners — er — what’s your 
name? ” 

“ Blair.” 

“Sir!” snapped the one iwho had first re- 
minded Andy of the lapse. 

“Sir!” 

“You know him,” put in Mortimer. “The 
fellow who put us out of the auto, eh?” 

“ Oh, sure, I remember now. Nervy little rat! 
It’s a wonder I remember anything that hap- 
pened that night. We were pretty well pickled. 
Oh, land, yes ! ” 

He seemed proud of it. 

“Take off that hat!” commanded Mortimer. 
“ Don’t forget you’re a freshman here.” 

“ And a fresh freshman, too,” added one of 
his chums. “Take it off!” 

Andy was perfectly willing to abide by this un- 
written law also, and doffed his derby. He made 
a mental note that as soon as he could he would 
get a cap, or soft hat, such as he saw other stu- 
dents wearing. 

“ The brute has some manners,” commented 
one of the trio. 

“ I’ll teach him some more before I get 


80 


Andy at Yale 

through with him ! ” muttered Mortimer. He, 
as well as his two companions, seemed to have 
been dining, “ not wisely but too well.” 

“Anything more?” asked Andy, good-natur- 
edly. He knew that he must put up with insults, 
if need be, from Mortimer; for he realized that, 
in a way, class distinction at Yale is strong in its 
unwritten laws, and he wanted to do as the others 
did. It takes much nerve to vary from the cus- 
toms and traditions of any country or place, more 
especially a big college. And Andy knew his 
turn would come. 

He also knew that it was all done in good- 
natured fun, and really with the best intentions. 
For a first-year man is very likely to become what 
his name indicates — fresh— and there is need of 
toning down. 

Besides, it is discipline that is good for the 
soul, and somewhat necessary. It makes for 
good in after life, in most cases, though of course 
there are some exceptions. Hazing, after all, is 
designed, primarily, to bring out a candidate’s 
character. A lad who will give way to his tem- 
per if made to take off his hat to one perhaps 
below him in social station, or if he sulks when 
tossed in a blanket — such a lad, in after life, is 
very apt to do the same thing when he has to 
knuckle under to a business rival, or to go into 
a passion when he receives the hard knocks of 


81 


Missing Money 

life. So, then, hazing, if not carried to extremes, 
has its uses in adversity, and Andy had sense 
enough to realize this. So he was ready for what 
might come. 

He knew, also, that Mortimer might, and 
probably would, be actuated by a mean spirit, 
and a desire for what he might think was re- 
venge. But he was only one of a large number 
of college youths. Andy was willing to take his 
chances. 

Andy looked over toward Wright Hall, with 
its raised courtyard. Lights were gleaming in 
the windows, and he fancied he could see his own 
room aglow. 

“ I hope Dunk is there,” he thought. 

“ ShalLwe put him through the paces?” asked 
one of Mortimer’s companions suggestively, nod^ 
ding at Andy. 

“ Not to-night. We’ve got something else 
on,” answered the society swell. “ Trot along, 
Blair, and don’t forget what we’ve told you. I’ll 
see you again,” he added, significantly. 

The trio had come to a stop some little dis- 
tance from Andy, and had stood with arms 
linked. Now they were ready to proceed. On 
the various walks, that traversed the big campus 
in the quadrangle of Yale, other students were 
hurrying to and fro, some going to their rooms, 
others coming from them. Some were going 


82 


Andy at Yale 

towards their eating clubs or to the University 
dining hall. And Andy was feeling hungry. 

“ Well, come on,” urged Mortimer to his com- 
panions. “ I guess we’ve started this freshman 
on the right road. Just see that you follow it, 
Blair. I’ll be watching you.” 

“And I’ll be watching you!” thought Andy. 
And at that moment he was gazing intently at 
Gaffington. As he looked, Andy saw something 
fall from below the flap of the coat of one of 
the trio, and land softly on the pavement. It 
fell limp, making no noise. 

One of Mortimer’s companions, who, Andy 
afterward learned, was Leonard, or “ Len,” 
Scott, reached his hand into his pocket, and 
brought it out with a strange look on his face. 

“ Hello ! ” he exclaimed, blankly, “ my wallet’s 
gone ! ” 

“ Gone! ” exclaimed the other, Clarence Boyle 
by name. “Are you sure you had it?” 

“I sure did!” said Len, feeling in various 
pockets. “ Just cashed a check, too ! ” 

“ Come on back to your room and have a look 
for it,” suggested Mortimer pulling his chum 
half-way around. “ If it’s gone I can lend you 
some. I’m flush to-night.” 

“ But I’m sure I had it,” went on Len. “ I 
remember feeling it just as we came out of Law- 
rance. I had about fifty dollars in it! ” 


Missing Money 83 

“ Whew ! ” whistled Mortimer. “ Some little 
millionaire, you are, Len. Never mind, I can 
let you have twenty-five if you need it.” Andy 
knew that Mortimer’s father was reputed to be 
several times a millionaire. 

“ But I don’t like to lose that,” went on Len. 
“ I guess I will go back and have a look in my 
shack. If I can’t find it I’ll stick up a notice.” 

“You might have dropped it when we met 
that other bunch of freshmen and had the little 
argument with them about their hats,” suggested 
Clarence. 

“That’s right,” went on Mortimer, still pull- 
ing on Len’s arm, as though to get him away 
from the spot. “ Maybe one of the freshmen 
frisked it off you,” he added, looking at Andy. 

By this time the trio had turned half-way 
around, evidently to go back to Scott’s room and 
look for the missing pocketbook. Andy had a 
clear view of the object that had fallen from 
under the coat of one of them. 

“ There is something,” the freshman said, 
pointing to the object on the pavement. “ I saw 
one of you drop it. Perhaps it is the pocket- 
book.” 

Len wheeled and made a grab for it. 

“ That’s mine ! ” he cried. “ It must have 
worked up out of my pocket and fallen. 
Thanks ! ” he added, warmly, to Andy. 


84 


Andy at Yale 

With a quick motion Len opened his wallet. 
A strange look came over his face as he cried: 

“It’s empty!” 

“Empty!” gasped Mortimer. “Let’s see!” 

He leaned forward, as did Clarence, all three 
staring into the opened pocketbook. Andy 
looked on curiously. 

“It was one of those freshmen!” declared 
Mortimer, with conviction. “ They must have 
slipped their hand up in your coat when we were 
frisking them, and taken out the money.” 

“ But how could they when I still had the 
pocketbook?” asked Len, much puzzled. 

“ They must have taken out the bills, and put 
the wallet back,” went on Mortimer, quickly. 
“ They didn’t get it all the way in your pocket 
and it tumbled out when you were standing here. 
Lucky we noticed it or we wouldn’t have known 
what happened. Come on back. We’ll find 
those freshmen.” 

And, without another look at Andy, they 
wheeled and hurried across the campus toward 
Vanderbilt Hall. 

“Huh! That’s queer!” mused Andy, as he 
continued on his way toward Wright. “ I’m glad 
I saw that wallet when I did.” 


CHAPTER XI 


“ ROUGH HOUSE ” 

“ Oh, you, Dunk! ” 

“ Stick out your noodle, Chamber! ” 

“ Where are you? ” 

These were the cries that greeted Andy as he 
entered the passage leading to his room in Wright 
Hall — the room he was to share with Duncan 
Chamber. Down the hall he saw a group of 
lads who had evidently come to rouse Andy’s 
prospective chum. Somehow, our hero felt a 
little hurt that he had to share his friend with 
others. But it was only momentarily. 

“Open up there, Dunk! Open up!” 

Thus came the appeal, and fists banged on the 
door. It was opened a crack, and the rattle of 
a chain was heard. 

“ Get on to the beggar ! ” 

“ He must think we’re a bunch of sophs ! ” 

“ Don’t be afraid, Dunky, we’re only your 
sweethearts ! ” 

Thus the three callers gibed him. 

“Oh, it’s you fellows, is it?” asked Chamber, 
8s 


86 


Andy at Yale 

flinging wide the door, and letting out a flood of 
light. “ I thought I was in for a hazing, so I 
was keeping things on the safe side. Come on 
in. I’m just straightening up.” 

The three tumbled into the room. Andy fol- 
lowed, and at the sound of his footsteps coming 
to a pause outside the portal Dunk peered out. 

“ Oh, hello, Blair! ” he greeted, cordially! “ I 
thought you were never coming! Put her there, 
old man! How are you? ” 

He caught Andy’s hand in a firm pressure with 
a mighty slap, and hauled him inside. 

“Fellows, here’s my roommate!” went on 
Dunk. “ Andy Blair. I hope you’ll like him as 
well as I do. Blair, these are some luckless fresh- 
men like ourselves. Take ’em in the order of 
their beauty — Bob Hunter — never hit the bulls- 
eye in his life; Ted Wilson — just Ted, mostly; 
Thad Warburton — no end of a swell, and money 
to burn! Shake!” 

They shook in turn, looking into each other’s 
eyes with that quick appraising glance that means 
so much. Andy liked all three. He hoped they 
would like him. 

“So this is your hangout, eh, Dunk?” asked 
Ted, when the little formality of introduction 
was over. 

“ Yes, Andy had this picked out and kindly 
agreed to share it with me.” 


“ Rough House ” 


87 


“ I sure was glad to! ” said Andy, heartily. 

“ Some swell little joint,” commented Thad 
Warburton, looking around. 

“ Wait until we get her fixed up,” advised 
Dunk. “Then we’ll have something to show 
you ! I haven’t decided on a bed yet,” he added 
to Dick. “ Pick out the one you want.” 

“ I’m not particular. They all look alike to 
me. 

“Yes, they’re just the same. Fed your face 
yet?” 

“ No, but I’m hungry. Thought I’d wait for 
you.” 

“Say, where is your eating joint?” asked 
Thad. 

“ I haven’t picked out one yet,” answered 
Andy. “ I was thinking of going to the 
Hall ” 

“ Oh, that’s no fun ! ” cried Bob. “ Come with 
us. We have a swell place. Run by one of our 
Andover crowd. Good grub and a nice bunch 
of fellows.” 

“ I’m willing,” agreed Andy. 

“We could try it for a while,” assented Dunk, 
“ and if we didn’t like it we could switch to the 
University Hall. What do you say, Andy?” 

“ I’m with you. The sooner the quicker. I’m 
starved.” 

“All right, then, we’ll let the room go until 


88 


Andy at Yale 

after grub. I was going to stick up a few of my 
things, but they can wait. Get your trunk, 
Andy? ” 

“Did it come? I gave a man the check.” 

“Not yet. Sounds like it now.” 

There was a bumping and thumping out in the 
corridor, and an expressman came in with Andy’s 
baggage. It was stowed away in a corner and 
then the five lads prepared to set out for the 
“ eating joint.” 

“ It’s around on York street, not far from 
Morey’s,” volunteered Thad. 

“ Oh, yes, Morey’s ! ” exclaimed Andy. “ I’ve 
heard lots about that joint. I wish we could get 
in there.” 

“ No freshman need apply,” quoted Dunk, 
with a laugh. “ That’s for our betters. We’ll 
get there some day.” 

“ Oh, I say ” began Ted, as they were 

about to go out. He looked at Andy rather 
queerly. 

“What is it?” asked our hero, with a frank 
laugh. “Am I togged up wrong? ” 

“Your — er — derby,” said Bob, obviously not 
liking to mention it. 

“ Oh, yes, that’s right ! ” chimed in Dunk. 
“ Hope you don’t mind, Andy, but a cap or a 
crusher would be in better form. 

Andy noticed that the others had on soft hats. 


“ Rough House” 


89 


“ Sure,” he said. “ I was going to get one. I 
had a soft hat at Milton, but it’s all initialed, and 
covered with dates from down there. I don’t 
suppose that would go here.” 

“ Hardly,” agreed Dunk. “ I’ve got an odd 
one, though. Stick it on until you get yours,” and 
he hauled a soft hat from under a pile of things 
on his dresser. 

Andy hung up his offending derby and clapped 
the other on the back of his head. Then the five 
sallied forth, locking the door behind them. 

Their feet echoed on the stone flagging of the 
open courtyard as they headed out on the cam- 
pus. Past Dwight Hall, the home of the Young 
Men’s Christian Association, they went, out into 
High street and through Library to York. The 
thoroughfares were thronged with many students 
now, for it was the hour for supper. 

Calls, cries, hails, gibes, comments and appeals 
were bandied back and forth. For it was the be- 
ginning of the term, and many of the new lads 
had not yet found themselves or their places. 
It was all pleasurable excitement and anticipa- 
tion. 

Huddled close together, talking rapidly of 
many things they had seen, or hoped to see — of 
the things they had done or expected to do, Andy, 
Dunk, and their chums walked on to the eating 
place. Dunk informed Andy, in a whisper, that 


90 


Andy at Yale 

his three friends had been at Phillips Academy, 
in Andover, with him. 

“ Over here ! ” 

“ This way! ” 

“ Lots of room ! ” 

“ Shove in, Hunter! ” 
u There’s Wilson!” 

“Dunk Chamber, too! Oh, you, Dunk!” 

“ Oh, Thad Warburton, give us your eye! ” 

It was a call to health, and several lads arose 
holding aloft foaming mugs of beer. For a mo- 
ment Andy’s heart failed him. He did not drink, 
and he did not intend to, yet he realized that to 
refuse might be very embarrassing. Yet he re- 
solved on his course. 

There were more good-natured cries, and 
healths proposed, and then Andy and his com- 
panions found room at the table. Dunk intro- 
duced Andy to several lads. 

“ Oh, you, Dunk, your eyes on us! ” 

Several lads called to him, holding aloft their 
steins. Dunk hesitated a moment and then, with 
a quick glance at Andy, let his glass be filled. 
Rising, he gave the pledge and drank. 

Andy felt a tug at his heart strings. He was 
not a crank, nor a stickler for forms or reforms, 
yet he had made up his mind never to touch intox- 
icants. And it gave him a shock to find his room- 
mate taking the stuff. 


“ Rough House ” 


91 


“ Well, he’s his own master,” thought Andy. 
“ It’s up to him ! ” 

And then, amid that gay scene — not at all riot- 
ous — there came to Andy the memory of a half- 
forgotten lesson. 

“Am I my brother’s keeper? ” 

Andy wanted to close his mind to it, but that 
one question seemed to repeat itself over and 
over again to him. 

“Have some beer?” 

The voice of a waiter was whispering to him. 

“ No — not to-night,” said Andy, softly. And 
what a relief he felt. No one seemed to notice 
him, nor was his refusal looked upon as strange. 
Then he noticed with a light heart that only a few 
of the lads, and the older ones at that, were 
taking the beverage. Andy noticed, too, with 
more relief, that Dunk only took one glass. 

The meal went on merrily, and then Andy and 
Dunk, refusing many invitations to come to the 
rooms of friends, or downtown to a show, went 
to their own room. 

“ Let’s get it in shape,” proposed Dunk. 

“ Sure,” agreed Andy, and they set to work. 

Each one had brought from home certain 
trophies — mementoes of school life — and these 
soon adorned the walls. Then there were ban- 
ners and pennants, sofa cushions — the gift of 
certain girls — and photographs galore. 


92 


Andy at Yale 

“Well, I call this some nifty little joint!” ex- 
claimed Dunk, stepping back to admire the effect 
of the photograph of a pretty girl he had fast- 
ened on the wall. 

“ It sure is,” agreed Andy, who was himself 
putting up a picture. 

“I say, who’s that?” asked Dunk, indicating 
it. “ She’s some little looker, if you don’t mind 
me saying so.” 

“ My sister.” 

“ Congrats! I’d like to meet her.” 

“ Maybe — some day.” 

“Who’s this — surely not your sister?” asked 
Dunk, indicating another picture. “ I seem to 
know her.” 

“ She’s a vaudeville actress, Miss Fuller.” 

“ Oh, ho ! So that’s the way the wind blows, 
is it? Say, you are going some, Andy.” 

“Nothing doing! I happened to save her 
from a fire ” 

“Save her from a fire! Worse and more of 
it. I must tell this to the boys ! ” 

“ Oh, it wasn’t anything,” and Andy explained. 
“ She sent me a mackinaw in place of my burned 
coat, and her picture was in the pocket. I kept 
it.” 

“ I should think you would. She’s a peach, and 
clever, too, I understand. She’s billed at Poli’s.” 

“ Yes, I’m going to see her.” 


4vh 



In came, with a rush, Mortimer Gaffington and several 

other sophomores. [See page 93] 















“ Rough House ” 


93 


“ Take me around, will you? ” 

“ Sure, if you like.” 

“I like all right. Hark, someone’s coming! ” 
and Dunk slipped to the door and put on the 
chain. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Andy. 

“ Oh, the sophs are around and may come in 
and make a rough house any minute.” 

But the approaching footsteps did not prove 
to be those of vengeful sophomores. They were 
the three friends, Bob, Thad, and Ted, who were 
soon admitted. 

As they were sitting about and talking there 
was a commotion out in the hall. The door, 
which Dunk had neglected to chain after the ad- 
mission of his friends, was suddenly burst open, 
and in came, with a rush, Mortimer Gaffington 
and several other sophomores. 

“ Rough house ! ” was their rallying cry. 

“Rough house for the freshies!” 

“ Rough house! ” 


CHAPTER XII 


A FIERCE TACKLE 

Andy and his chums were taken completely by 
surprise. The approach of Mortimer and the 
other sophomores had been so silent that no 
warning had been given. 

Immediately on gaining admittance to the room 
the intruders began tossing things about. They 
pulled open the drawers of the dresser, scatter- 
ing the garments all over. They tore down pic- 
tures from the walls and ripped off the banners 
and pennants. 

“ Rough house ! ” they kept repeating. 
“Rough house on the freshmen!” 

One of the sophomores pushed Bob and Ted 
over on Andy’s bed, together. 

Then Gaffington pulled from his pocket a hand- 
ful of finely chopped paper of various colors — 
“ confetti ” — and scattered it in a shower over 
everyone and everything. 

“Snow, snow! beautiful snow! ” he declaimed. 
“Shiver, freshmen!” 

A momentary pause ensued. Andy and his 
chums were getting back their breaths. 

94 


A Fierce Tackle 


95 


“Well, why don’t you shiver?” demanded 
Mortimer. “ That’s snow — beautiful snow — all 
sorts of colored snow! Shiver, I tell you! It’s 
snowing! Little Eva in Uncle Tom’s Cabin — 
Eliza crossing the ice! Shiver now, you fresh- 
men, shiver ! ” 

He was laughing in a silly sort of way. 

“ That’s right — shiver ! ” commanded some of 
Mortimer’s companions. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” jeered the 
society swell at Andy. “ Why don’t you shiver? ” 

“ I’ve forgotten how,” said Andy, calmly. 

“Hang you, shiver!” and Mortimer fairly 
howled out the word. He started toward Andy, 
with raised arm and clenched fist. 

Among the possessions disturbed by the in- 
truders was Andy’s favorite baseball bat, which 
he had brought with him. Instinctively, as he 
retreated a step, his fingers clutched it. He 
swung it around and held it in readiness. Mor- 
timer recoiled, and Andy, seeing his advantage, 
cried: 

“ Get out of here ! All of you. Come on, fel- 
lows, put ’em out! ” 

He raised the bat above his head, without the 
least intention in the world of using it, but the 
momentum swung it from his hand and it struck 
Mortimer on the forehead. 

The lad who had led the “ rough house ” at- 


96 


Andy at Yale 

tack staggered for a moment, and then, blubber- 
ing, sank down in a heap on the floor. 

A sudden silence fell. In an instant Andy had 
sunk down on his knees beside his enemy and 
was feeling his pulse and heart. There was only 
a slight bruise on the forehead. 

“ You — you’ve killed him! ” whimpered one of 
the sophomores. 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Dunk. “Pie’s only 
over-excited.” This was putting it mildly. Mor- 
timer had been “ celebrating,” and had really 
fainted. “ That was only a love tap,” went on 
Dunk. “ Chuck a little water in his face and 
he’ll be all right.” 

This was done and proved to be just what was 
needed. Mortimer opened his eyes. 

“What — what happened?” he asked, weakly. 
“ Where — where am I? ” 

“ Where you don’t belong,” replied Dunk, 
sharply. “It’s your move — get out!” 

“You — you struck me!” went on Mortimer, 
accusingly to Andy. 

“No, indeed, I did not! I thought you were 
coming for me, and so I raised the bat. It 
slipped.” 

“ I guess that’s right, old man,” said one of 
the sophomores, frankly. “ I saw it. Mort has 
been going it too heavily. We’ll get him out of 
here. No offense, I hope,” and he looked 


A Fierce Tackle 97 

around the dismantled room. “ This is the usual 
thing.” 

“ Oh, all right,” said Dunk. “ We’re not kick- 
ing. I guess we held up our end.” 

“ You sure did,” returned one of the sopho- 
mores, as he glanced at the wilted Mortimer. 
“ Come on, fellows.” 

Andy, feeling easier now that he was sure 
Mortimer was not badly hurt, looked at the 
other lads. Two of them he recognized as the 
ones who had been with Gaffington when the loss 
of the money was discovered. Andy wondered 
whether it had been found, but he did not like 
to ask. 

“ I — I’ll get you for this ! I’ll fix you ! ” 
growled Mortimer, as his chums led him out of 
the room. “You — you ” and he swayed un- 

steadily, gazing at Andy. 

“Oh, dry up and come on!” advised Len 
Scott. “ We’ll go downtown and have some 
fun.” 

They withdrew and the dazed freshmen began 
helping Andy and Dunk straighten up the room. 
It took some time and it was late when they 
finished. Then, thinking the day had been stren- 
uous enough, Andy and Dunk declined invitations 
to go out, and got ready for bed. 

So ended Andy’s first day at Yale. 

There was a hurried run to chapel next morn- 


98 


Andy at Yale 

in g, and Andy, who had to finish arranging his 
scarf on the way, found that he was not the only 
tag-ender. Chapel was not over-popular. 

That Len Scott did not recover his lost money 
was made evident the next day, for there were 
several notices posted in various places offering 
a reward for the return of the bills. Andy heard, 
indirectly, that Len and Mortimer made half- 
accusations against the freshmen they 'had 
“ frisked ” earlier in the evening, and had been 
soundly trounced for their impudence. 

Andy told Dunk of his connection in the affair 
and was advised to keep quiet, which Andy 
thought wise to do. But the loss of the money 
did not seem to be of much permanent annoyance 
to Len, for a few days later he was again spend- 
ing royally. 

Andy began now to settle down to his life at 
Yale. He was duly established in his room with 
Dunk, and it was the congregating place of many 
of their freshman friends. Andy and Dunk con- 
tinued to eat at the “joint” in York street, 
though our hero made up his mind that he would 
shift to University Hall at the first opportunity. 
He hoped Dunk would come with him, but that 
was rather doubtful. 

“ I can try, anyhow,” thought Andy. 

Our hero did not find the lessons and lectures 
easy. There was a spirit of hard work at Yale 


A Fierce Tackle 


99 


as he very soon found out, and he had not as 
much leisure time as he had anticipated, which, 
perhaps, was a good thing for him. But Andy 
wanted to do well, and he applied himself at first 
with such regularity that he was in danger of 
becoming known as a u dig.” But he was just 
saved from that by the influence of Dunk, who 
took matters a little easier. 

Following the episode of the “ rough house,” 
Andy did not see Mortimer for several days, and 
when he did meet him the latter took no notice 
of our hero. 

“ I’m just as pleased,” Andy thought. “ Only 
it looks as though he’d make more trouble.” 

Candidates for the football team had been 
called for, and, as Andy had made good at Mil- 
ton, he decided to try for at least a place on the 
freshman team. 

So then, one crisp afternoon, in company with 
other candidates, all rather in fear and trembling, 
he hopped aboard a trolley to go out to Yale 
Field. 

Dunk was with him, as were also Bob, Ted, 
and Thad, who likewise had hopes. There was 
talk and laughter, and admiring and envying 
glances were cast at the big men — those who had 
played on the varsity team last year. They were 
like the lords of creation. 

The car stopped near the towering grand- 


100 


Andy at Yale 

stands that hemmed in the gridiron, and Andy 
swarmed with the others into the dressing rooms. 

“Lively now!” snapped Holwell, one of the 
coaches. “ Get out on the field, you fellows, and 
try tackling the dummy.” 

A grotesque figure hung from a cross beam, 
and against this the candidates hurled themselves, 
endeavoring to clasp the elusive knees in a hard 
tackle. There were many failures, some of the 
lads missing the figure entirely and sliding along 
on their faces. Andy did fairly well, but if he 
looked for words of praise he was disappointed. 

This practice went on for several days, and 
then came other gridiron work, falling on the 
ball, punting and drop kicking. Andy was no 
star, but he managed to stand out among the 
others, and there was no lack of material that 
year. 

Then came scrimmage practice, the tentative 
varsity eleven lining up against the scrub. With 
all his heart Andy longed to get into this, but for 
days he sat on the bench and watched others 
being called before him. But he did not neglect 
practice on this account. 

Then, one joyful afternoon he heard his name 
called by the coach. 

“ Get in there at right half and see what you 
can go,” was snapped at him. “ Don’t fuddle 
the signals — smash through — follow the interfer- 


A Fierce Tackle 101 

ence, and keep your eyes on the ball. Blake, give 
him the signals.” 

The scrub quarter took him to one side and 
imparted a simple code used at practice. 

“Now, scrub, take the ball,” snapped the 
coach, “ and see what you can do.” 

There was a quick line-up. Andy was trem- 
bling, but he managed to hold himself down. He 
looked over at the varsity. To his surprise Mor- 
timer was being tried at tackle. 

“Ready!” shrilly called the scrub quarter. 
“ Signal — eighteen — forty - seven — shift — 
twenty-one — nineteen ” 

It was the signal for Andy to take the ball 
through right tackle and guard. He received the 
pigskin and with lowered head and hunched 
shoulders shot forward. He saw a hole torn 
in the varsity line for him, and leaped through it. 
The opening was a good one, and the coach 
raved at the fatal softness of the first-team play- 
ers. Andy saw his chance and sprinted forward. 

But the next instant, after covering a few 
yards, he was fiercely tackled by Mortimer, who 
threw him heavily. He fell on Andy, and the 
breath seemed to leave our hero. His eyes saw 
black, and there was a ringing in his ears as of 
many bells. 


CHAPTER XIII 


BARGAINS 

“That’s enough! Get up off him! Don’t 
you know enough, Gaffington, to tell when a 
man’s down?” 

Andy heard the sharp voice of the coach, Hol- 
well, but the tones seemed to come from a great 
distance. 

“Water here!” 

“Somebody’s keeled over!” 

“ It’s that freshman, Blair. Plucky little imp, 
too!” 

“ Who tackled him? ” 

“ Gaffington. Took him a bit high and fell 
on him! ” 

“Oh, well, this is football; it isn’t kindergar- 
ten beanbag.” 

Dimly Andy heard these comments. He 
opened his eyes, only to close them again as he 
felt a dash of cold water in his face. 

“ Feel all right now? ” 

It was the voice of the coach in his ears. Andy 
felt himself being lifted to his feet. His ears 
.102 


Bargains 103 

rang, and he could not see clearly. There was 
a confused mass of forms about him, and the 
ground seemed to reel beneath his feet. 

Then like another dash of cold water came the 
thought to him, sharply and clearly: 

“ This isn’t playing the game ! If I’m going 
to go over like this every time I’m tackled I’ll 
never play for Yale. Brace up ! ” 

By a sheer effort of will Andy brought his 
staggering senses back. 

“ I — I’m all right,” he panted. “ Sort of a 
solar plexus knock, I guess.” 

“That’s the way to talk!” exclaimed the 
coach, grimly. “ Now then, fellows, hit it up. 
Where’s that ball? Oh, you had it, did you, 
Blair? That’s right, whatever happens, keep the 
ball! Get into the play now. Varsity, tear up 
that scrub line! What’s the matter with you, 
anyhow? You’re letting ’em go right through 
you. Smash ’em! Smash ’em good and hard. 
All right now, Blair?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

" Get in the game then. Scrub’s ball. Hurry 
up! Signal!” 

Sharp and incisive came his tones, like some 
bitter tonic . Not a word of praise — always find- 
ing fault; and as for sympathy — you might as 
well have looked for it from an Indian ready to 
use his scalping knife. And yet — that is what 


104 Andy at Yale 

made the Yale team what it was — a fighting 
machine. 

Once more came the line-up, the scrub quarter 
snapping out his signals. 

Andy took his old place. He was rapidly 
feeling better, yet his whole body ached and he 
felt as though he had fallen from a great height. 
He was terribly jarred, for Mortimer had put 
into the tackle all his fierce energy, adding to it 
a spice of malice. 

Andy heard the signal given for the forward 
pass, and felt relieved. He could take another 
few seconds to get his breathing into a more 
regular cadence. He looked over at Mortimer, 
who grinned maliciously. Andy knew, as well 
as if he had been told, that the tackle had been 
needlessly fierce. But there was no earthly use 
in speaking of it. Rather would it do him more 
harm than good. This, then, was part of the 
“ getting even ” game that his enemy had marked 
out. 

“He won’t get me again, though!” thought 
Andy, fiercely. “ If he does, it will be my own 
fault. Wait until I get a chance at him! ” 

It came sooner than he expected. The for- 
ward pass on the part of the scrub was a fluke 
and after a few more rushing plays the ball was 
given to the varsity to enable them to try some 
of their new plays. 


Bargains 105 

Several times Mortimer had the pigskin, and 
was able to make good gains. Then the wrath 
of the coach was turned against the luckless 
scrubs. 

“ What do you fellows mean? ” cried Holwell. 
u Letting ’em go through you this way! Get at 
’em! Break up their plays if you can! Block 
their kicks. They’ll think they’re playing a kid 
team! I want ’em to work! Smash ’em! Kill 
’em!” 

He was rushing about, waving his hands, 
stamping his feet — a veritable little cyclone of a 
coach. 

“Signal!” he cried sharply. 

It came from the varsity quarter, and Andy 
noticed, with a thrill in his heart, that Gaffington 
was to take the ball. 

“ Here’s where I get him ! ” muttered Andy, 
fiercely. 

There was a rush — a thud of bodies against 
bodies — gaspings of breaths, the cracking of 
muscles and sinews. Andy felt himself in a mael- 
strom of pushing, striving, hauling and toppling 
flesh. Then, in an instant, there came an open- 
ing, and he saw before him but one player — 
Mortimer — with the ball. 

Like a flash Andy sprang forward and caught 
his man in a desperate embrace — a hard, clean 
tackle. Andy put into it all his strength, intent 


106 


Andy at Yale 

only upon hurling his opponent to the turf with 
force enough to jar him insensible if possible. 

Perhaps he should not have done so, you may 
say, but Andy was only human. He was play- 
ing a fierce game, and he wanted his revenge. 

Into Mortimer’s eyes came a look of fear, as 
he went down under the impact of Andy. But 
there was this difference. Mortimer’s previous 
experience had taught him how to take a fall, 
and he came to no more hurt through Andy’s 
fierce tackle than from that of any other player, 
however much Andy might have meant he 
should. Our hero did not stop to think that he 
might have injured one of the varsity players 
so as to put him out of the game, and at a time 
when Yale needed all the good men she could 
muster. And Gaffington, in spite of his faults, 
was a good player. 

There was a thud as Andy and Mortimer 
struck the earth — a thud that told of breaths be- 
ing driven from their bodies. Then Andy saw 
the ball jarred from his opponent’s arms, and, in 
a flash he had let go and had rolled over on it. 
An instant later there was an animated pile of 
players on both lads, smothering their winded 
“ Downs!” 

“ That’ll do ! Get up ! ” snapped the coach. 
“ What’s the matter with you, Gaffington, to let 
a freshman get you that way and put you out of 


Bargains 107 

the game? Porter!” he shouted and a lad 
came running from the bench, pulling off his 
sweater as he ran, and tossing it to a companion. 
He had been called on to take Gafiington’s place, 
and the latter, angry and shamed-faced, walked 
to the side lines. 

As he went he gave Andy a look, as much as 
to say: 

“You win this time; but the battle isn’t over. 
I’ll get you yet.” 

As for Andy, his revenge had been greater 
than he had hoped. He had put his enemy out 
of the game more effectively than if he had 
knocked the breath from him by a tremendous 
tackle. 

“Good tackle, Blair!” called the scrub cap- 
tain to him, as the line-up formed again. 
“That’s the way to go for ’em! ” 

The coach said nothing, but to the varsity cap- 
tain he whispered: 

“ Keep your eye on Blair. If he keeps on, he 
may make a player yet. He’s a little too wild, 
though. Don’t say anything that will give him 
a swelled head.” 

The practice went on unrelentingly, and then 
the candidates were ordered back to the gymna- 
sium on the run, to be followed by a shower and 
a brisk rub. 

Glowing with health and vigor, and yet lame 


108 


Andy at Yale 

and sore from the hard tackle, Andy went to his 
room, to find Dunk Chamber impatiently waiting 
for him. 

“Oh, there you are, you old mud lark!” was 
the greeting. “ I’ve been waiting for you. 
Come on around to Burke’s and have some ale 
and a rarebit.” 

“ No thanks. I’m in training, you know.” 

“That’s so. Been out on the field?” 

“Yes. I wonder you don’t go in for that.” 

“ Too much like work. I might try for the 
crew or the nine. I’m afraid of spoiling my 
manly beauty by getting somebody’s boot heel in 
the eye. By the way, you don’t look particularly 
handsome. What has somebody been doing to 
you?” 

“ Nothing more than usual. It’s all in the 
game.” 

“ Then excuse me ! Are you coming to 
Burke’s? You can take sarsaparilla, you know. 
Thad and his bunch are coming.” 

“ Sure, I don’t mind trailing along. Got to 
get at a little of that infernal Greek, though.” 

“All right, I’ll wait. The fellows will be 
along soon.” 

And as Andy did a little of necessary studying 
he could not help wondering where Dunk would 
end. A fine young fellow, with plenty of money, 
and few responsibilities. Yale — indeed any col- 


Bargains 109 

lege — offered numberless temptations for such as 

he. 

“ Well, I can’t help it” thought Andy. “ He’s 
got to look out for himself.” 

And again there seemed to come to him that 
whisper: 

“Am I my brother’s keeper?” 

Surely Dunk was a college brother. 

Andy had scarcely finished wrestling with his 
Homer when there came a series of loud and 
jolly hails: 

“Oh, you Dunk!” 

“ Stick out your top, Blair! ” 

“ Here come the boys ! ” exclaimed Dunk. 
“ Now for some fun! ” 

The three friends trooped in. 

“Some little practice to-day, eh, Blair?” re- 
marked Bob Hunter. 

“And some little tackle Gaffington gave you, 
too! ” added Thad. 

“Yes, but Andy got back at him good and 
proper, and put him out of the game,” remarked 
Ted. “ It was a beaut ! ” 

“Did you and Mortimer have a run-in?” 
asked Dunk, quickly. 

“ Oh, no more than is usual in practice,” re- 
plied Andy, lightly. “He shook me up and I 
came back at him.” 

“ If that’s football, give me a good old-fash- 


110 


Andy at Yale 

ioned fight! ” laughed Dunk. Well, if we’re go- 
ing to have some fun, come on.” 

As they were leaving the room they were con- 
fronted by two other students. Andy recognized 
one as Isaac Stein, more popularly known as 
Ikey, a sophomore, and Hashmi Yatta, a Japan- 
ese student of more than usual brilliancy. 

“Oh boys, such a business!” exclaimed Ikey. 
He was a Jew, and not ashamed of it, often mak- 
ing himself the butt of the many expressions used 
against his race. On this account he was more 
than tolerated — he had many friends out of his 
own faith. “ Such a business ! ” he went on, us- 
ing his hands, without which he used to say he 
could not talk. 

“Well, what is it now?” asked Dunk with 
good-humored patience. “Neckties or silk 
shirts?” for Ikey was working his way through 
college partly by acting as agejit for various 
tradesmen, getting a commission on his sales. 
Dunk was one of his best customers. 

“ Such a business ! ” went on Ikey, mocking 
himself. “It is ornaments, gentlemans! Beau- 
tiful ornaments from the Flowery Kingdom. 
Such vawses — such vawses! Is it not, my friend 
Hashmi Yatta? ” and he appealed to the Japan- 
ese. 

“ Of a surely they are beautiful,” murmured 
the little yellow lad. “ There is some very good 


Bargains 111 

cloisonne, some kisku, and one or two pieces in 
awaji-yaki. Also there is some satsuma, if you 
would like it.” 

“ And the prices ! ” interrupted Ikey. “ Such 
bargains ! Come, you shall see. It is a crime to 
take them ! ” 

“ What’s it all about? ” asked Dunk. “ Have 
you fellows been looting a crockery store?” 

“ No, it is Hashmi here,” said the Jew. “ I 
don’t know whether his imperial ancestors willed 
them to him, or sent them over as a gift, but they 
are wonderful. A whole packing case full, and 
he’ll sell them dirt cheap.” 

“ What do we want of ’em?” asked Andy. 

“Want of ’em, you beggar? Why they’ll be 
swell ornaments for your room ! ”* 

That was an appeal no freshman could resist. 

“ What do you say? ” asked Dunk, weakly. 
“Shall we take a look, Andy?” 

“ I don’t mind.” 

“ You will never regret it! ” vowed Ikey. “ It 
is wonderful. Such bargains! It is a shame. I 
wonder Hashmi can do it.” 

“ They are too many for me to keep,” mur- 
mured the Jap. 

“ And so he will sell some,” interrupted Ikey, 
eagerly. 

“ And pay you a commission for working them 
off, I suppose,” spoke Thad. 


112 


Andy at Yale 
Ikey looked hurt. 

“ Believe me,” he said, earnestly, “ believe me, 
what little I get out of it is a shame, already. 
It is nothing. But I could not see the bargains 
missed. Come, we will have a look at them. 
You will never regret it! ” 

“You ought to be in business — not college,’’ 
laughed Dunk, as he slipped into a mackinaw. 
“ Come on, Andy, let’s go and get stuck good 
and proper.” 

“ Stuck ! Oh, such a business ! ” gasped Ilcey, 
with upraised hands. “ They are bargains, I 
tell you ! ” 


CHAPTER XIV 


DUNK REFUSES 

“This way, fellows! Don’t let anybody see 
us come in! ” 

Thus cautioned Ikey as he led his “ prospec- 
tive victims,” as Dunk referred to himself and 
the others, through various back streets and al- 
ley ways. 

“Why the caution?” Andy wanted to know, 
stumbling over an unseen obstruction, and nearly 
falling. 

“Hush!” whispered the Jew. “I want you, 
my friends, to have the pick of the bargains first. 
After that the others may come in. If some of 
the seniors knew of these vawses there wouldn’t 
be a one left.” 

“Oh, well we mustn’t let that happen!” 
laughed Dunk. “ I know I’m going to get 
stuck, but lead on, Horatio. I’m game.” 

“ Stuck, is it?” cried Ikey, and he seemed hurt 
at the suggestion. “Wait until you have seen, 
eh, Hashmi?” 

“ Of a surely, yes. They are beautiful! ” 


114 


Andy at Yale 

“ And so cheap; are they not, Hashmi?” 

“ Of a surely, yes.” 

“Where are you taking us, anyhow?” de- 
manded Thad. “ I thought we were going to 
Burke’s.” 

“ So we are, later,” said Dunk. “ I want to 
see some of this junk, though. Our room does 
need a bit of decoration, eh, Andy?” 

“ Yes, it can stand a few more things.” 

“But where are we going, anyhow?” Bob de- 
manded. “ This looks like a chop-suey joint.” 

“Hush!” cautioned Ikey again. “Some of 
the fellows may be around. There is a Chinese 
restaurant upstairs.” 

“And what’s downstairs?” asked Andy. 

“ Why, Hashmi had to hire a vacant room to 
put the packing box in when it came from Japan,” 
explained Ikey. “ It was too big to take up to 
his joint. Besides, it’s filled with straw, you 
know, so the vawses couldn’t smash. He’s just 
got it in this vacant store temporarily. You fel- 
lows have the first whack at it.” 

“ Well, let’s get the whacking over with,” sug- 
gested Andy. “ I had all I wanted at Yale Field 
this afternoon.” 

They came to a low, dingy building, at the 
side of which ran a black alley. 

“ In here — mind your steps! ” warned Ikey. 

They stumbled on, and then came to a halt 


Dunk Refuses 


115 


behind the college salesman. He shot out a 
gleam of radiance from a pocket electric flash- 
light and opened a door. 

“ Hurry up ! ” he whispered, and as the others 
slipped in he closed and locked the portal. “ Are 
the shades down, Hashmi?” he asked. 

“ Of a surely, yes.” 

“ Then show the fellows what your ancestors 
sent you.” 

There was the removal of boards from a big 
packing case that stood in the middle of a bare 
room. There was the rustle of straw, and then, 
in the gleam of the little electric flash the boys 
saw a confused jumble of Japanese vases and 
other articles in porcelain, packed in the box. 

“There, how’s that?” demanded Ikey, tri- 
umphantly, as he picked one up. “ Wouldn’t 
that look swell on your mantel, Dunk?” 

“ It might do to hold my tobacco.” 

“Tobacco! You heathen! Why, that jar is 
to hold the ashes of your ancestors ! ” 

“ Haven’t any ancestors that had ashes as far 
as I know,” said Dunk, imperturbably. “ I can 
smoke enough cigar ashes to fill it, though.” 

“ Hopeless — hopeless,” murmured Ikey. 

“ But look — such a bargain, only seven dollars! ” 

“ Holy mackerel ! ” cried Andy. “ Seven dol- 
lars for a tobacco jar! ” 

“ It isn’t a tobacco jar, I tell you! ” cried Ikey. 


116 


Andy at Yale 

“ It’s like the old Egyptian tear vawses, only 
different. Seven dollars — why it’s worth fifteen 
if it’s worth a cent. Ain’t it, Hashmi?” 

“ Of a surely, yes,” said the Jap, with an in- 
scrutable smile. 

“ But he’ll let you have it for just a little more 
than the wholesale price in Japan, mind you — 
in Japan!” cried Ikey. “Seven dollars. Think 
of it!” 

“ What about your commission? ” asked Thad, 
with a grin. 

“ A mere nothing — I must live, you know,” 
and Ikey shrugged his shoulders. “ Do you 
want it, Dunk? Why don’t you fellows pick out 
something? You’ll wait until they’re gone and 
be kicking yourselves. They’re dirt cheap — 
bargains every one. Look at that vawse! ” and 
he held up another to view in the pencil of light 
from the flash torch. 

“ It would do for crackers, I suppose,” said 
Andy, doubtfully. 

“Crackers!” gasped Ikey. “Tell him what 
it is for, Hashmi. I haven’t the heart,” and he 
pretended to weep. 

“This jar — he is for the holding of the petals 
of roses that were sent by your loved ones — the 
perfume of Eros,” murmured the poetical Japan- 
ese. 

“ Oh, for the love of tripe ! Hold me, I’m 


Dunk Refuses 


117 

going to faint, Gertie ! ” cried Bob. “ Rose pet- 
als from your loved ones! Oh, slush! ” 

“ It is true,” and Hashmi did not seem to re- 
sent being laughed at. “But it would do for 
crackers as well.” 

“ How much? ” asked Andy. 

“ Only five dollars — worth ten,” whispered 
Ikey. 

“Well, it would look nice on my stand,” said 
Andy weakly. “ I — I’ll take it.” 

“ And I guess you may as well wish me onto 
that dead ancestor jar,” added Dunk. “I’m al- 
ways getting stuck anyhow. Seven plunks is get- 
ting off easy.” 

“You will never regret it,” murmured Ikey. 
“Where is that paper, Hashmi? Now don’t 
you fellows let anyone else in on this game until 
I give the word. I’m taking care of my friends 
first, then the rest of the bunch. Friends first, 
say I.” 

“Yes, if you’re going to stick anybody, stick 
your friends first,” laughed Dunk. “ They’re 
the easiest. Go ahead, now you fellows bite,” 
and he looked at Bob, Thad and Ted. 

“What’s this — a handkerchief box?” asked 
Ted, picking up one covered with black and gold 
lacquer. 

“Handkerchief box! Shades of Koami!” 
cried Ikey. “ That, you dunce, is a box made to 


118 


Andy at Yale 

-Oh, you tell him, Hashmi, I haven’t the 
heart.” 

“ No, he wants to figure out how much he’s 
made on us,” added Andy. 

“ That box — he is for the retaining of the 
messages from the departed,” explained the Jap- 
anese. 

“You mean it’s a spiritualist cabinet?” de- 
manded Thad. “ I say now, will it do the rap- 
ping trick? ” 

“.You misapprehend me,” murmured Hashmi. 
“ I mean that you conserve in that the letters 
your ancestors may have written you. But of a 
courseness you might put in it your nose beauti- 
fiers if you wish, and perfume them.” 

“ Nose beautifiers — he means handkerchiefs,” 
explained Ikey. “ It’s a bargain — only three 
dollars.” 

“ I’ll take it,” spoke Thad. “ I know a girl 
I can give it to. No objection to putting a pow- 
der puff in it; is there, Hashmi?” 

“ Of a surely, no.” 

More of the wares from the big box were dis- 
played and the two other lads took something. 
Then Dunk insisted on having another look, and 
bought several “ vawses,” as Ikey insisted on 
calling them. 

“They’ll look swell in the room, eh, Andy?” 
he asked. 


Dunk Refuses 


119 


“ They sure will. I only hope there’s no more 
rough house or you’ll be out several dollars.” 

“ If those rusty sophs smash any of this stuff 
I’ll go to the dean about itl ” threatened Dunk, 
well knowing, however, that he would not. 

“ Such bargains ! Such bargains ! ” whispered 
Ikey, as he let them out of the side door, first 
glancing up and down the dark alley to make sure 
that no other college lads were lying in wait to 
demand their share of the precious stuff. The 
coast was clear and Andy and his chums slipped 
out, carrying their purchases. 

“ Are you coming? ” Dunk asked of Ikey. 

“ No, I’ll stay and help Hashmi pack up the 
things. If you want any more let me know.” 

“Huh! You mean you’ll stay and count up 
how much you’ve stuck us ! ” said Dunk. “ Oh, 
well, it looks like nice stuff. But I’ve got enough 
for the present. I’ve overdrawn my allowance 
as it is.” 

“ Well, we’ll leave this junk in your room, 
Andy, and then go out and have some fun,” sug- 
gested Thad. 

They piled their purchases on the beds in 
Andy’s and Dunk’s room in Wright Hall and 
then proceeded on to Burke’s place, an eating 
and drinking resort for many students. 

There was a crowd there when Andy and his 
chums entered and they were noisily greeted. 


120 


Andy at Yale 

“Oh, you Dunk!” 

“ Over here ! Lots of room ! ” 

“Waiter, five more cold steins!” 

“None for me! ” said Andy with a smile. 

“ That’s all right — he’s trying for the team,” 
someone said, in a low tone. 

“ Oh!” 

Through the haze of the smoke of many pipes 
Andy saw some of the football crowd. They 
were all taking “ soft stuff,” which he himself 
ordered. 

Then began an evening of jollity and clean fun. 
It was rather rough, and of the nature of horse- 
play, of course, and perhaps some of the lads 
did forget themselves a little, but it was far from 
being an orgy. 

“ I’m going to pull out soon,” spoke Andy to 
Dunk, when an hour or so had passed. 

“ Oh, don’t be in a rush. I’ll be with you in 
a little while.” 

“ All right, I’ll wait.” 

Again to Andy had come the idea that he 
might, after all, prove a sort of “ brother’s 
keeper” to his chum. 

The fun grew faster and more furious, but 
there was a certain line that was never over- 
stepped, and for this Andy was glad. 

The door opened to admit another throng, 
and Andy saw Mortimer and several of his com- 


Dunk Refuses 


121 


panions of the fast set. How Gaffington kept 
up the pace and still managed to retain his place 
on the football team was a mystery to many. Fie 
had wonderful recuperative powers, though, and 
was well liked by a certain element. 

“Hello, Dunk!” he greeted Andy’s room- 
mate. “You’re looking pretty fit.” 

“ Same to you — though you look as though 
you’d been having one.” 

“ So I have — rather strenuous practice to-day. 
Oh, there’s the fellow who did me up ! ” and he 
looked at Andy and, to our hero’s surprise, 
laughed. 

“ It’s all right, old man— no hard feelings,” 
went on Mortimer. “Will you shake?” 

“Sure!” exclaimed Andy, eagerly. He was 
only too anxious not to have any enmity. 

“Put her there! Shake!” exclaimed the 
other. “You shook me and I shook you. No 
hard feelings, eh?” 

“ Of course not! ” 

“ That’s all right then. Fellows, I’ll give you 
one — Andy Blair — a good tackier!” and Morti- 
mer raised his glass on high. 

“Andy Blair! Oh, you Andy! Your eye on 
us ! ” 

And thus was Andy pledged by his enemy. 
What did it mean? 

Faster grew the fun. The room was choking 


122 Andy at Yale 

blue with tobacco smoke, and Andy wanted to 
get away. 

“ Come on, Dunk,” he said. “ Let’s pull out. 
We’ve got some stiff recitations to-morrow.” 

“ All right, I’m willing.” 

Mortimer saw them start to leave, and coming 
over put his arm affectionately around Dunk. 

“ Oh, you’re not going!” he expostulated. 
“ Why, it’s early yet and the fun’s just starting. 
Don’t be a quitter ! ” 

Dunk flushed. He was not used to being 
called that. 

“ Yes, stay and finish out,” urged others. 
Andy felt that it was a crisis. Yet he could 
say nothing. Dunk seemed undecided for a mo- 
ment, and Mortimer renewed his pleadings. 

“ Be a sport! ” he cried. “ Have a good time 
while you’re living — you’re a long time dead!” 

There was a moment’s hush. Then Dunk 
gently removed Mortimer’s arm and said: 

“ No, I’m going back with Blair. Come on, 
Andy.” 

And they went out together. 


CHAPTER XV 


DUNK GOES OUT 

“ Look at that ! ” 

“ Why, it’s the same stuff! ” 

“ There’s a rose jar like the one I bought for 
seven dollars marked two seventy-five!” 

“Oh, the robber! Why, there’s a handker- 
chief box, bigger than the one he stuck me with, 
and it’s only a dollar! ” 

“Say, let’s rough-house Ikey and that Jap!” 
Andy, Dunk, and their three friends were 
standing in front of a Japanese store, looking in 
the window, that held many articles associated 
with the Flowery Kingdom. Price tags were on 
them, and the lads discovered that they had paid 
dearly for the ornaments they had so surrepti- 
tiously viewed in the semi-darkness, under the 
guidance of Ikey Stein. 

This was several days after they had pur- 
chased their bric-a-brac and meanwhile they had 
seen Ikey and Hashmi going about getting other 
students into their toils. 

“Say, that was a plant, all right!” declared 
Dunk. “ I’m going to make Ikey shell out.” 

123 


124 


Andy at Yale 

“And the Jap, too!” added Andy. “We 
sure were stuck ! ” 

For the articles in the window were identical, 
in many cases, with those they had bought, but 
the prices were much less. 

“ I thought there was something fishy about 
it,” commented Thad. “ Never again do I buy 
a pig in a poke ! ” 

“ I’ll poke Ikey when I catch him,” said Bob. 

“ Here he comes now,” spoke Ted, in a low 
voice. “ Don’t seem to see him until he gets 
close, and then we’ll grab him and make him 
shell out!” 

So the five remained looking steadfastly in the 
window until the unsuspecting Ikey came close. 
Then Andy and Dunk made a quick leap and 
caught him. 

“ What — what is it? ” asked the surprised stu- 
dent. 

“ We merely want your advice on the purchase 
of some more art objects,” said Andy, grimly. 
“You’re such an expert, you know.” 

“ Some other time — some other time ! I’m 
due at a lecture now!” pleaded Ikey, squirming 
to get away. 

“ The lecture can wait,” said Dunk. “ Look 
at that vawse for the holding of the rose petals 
from your loved one. See it there — now would 
you advise me to buy it? It’s much cheaper 


Dunk Goes Out 125 

than the one you and your beloved Hashmi stuck 
me with.” 

Ikey looked at the faces of his captors. He 
saw only stern, unrelenting glares, and realized 
that his game had been discovered. 

“ I — er — I ” he stammered. 

u Come, what’s your advice?” demanded 
Dunk. “Did I pay too much?” 

“ I — er — perhaps you did,” admitted Ikey, 
slowly. 

“ Then fork over the balance.” 

“And what about my cracker jar — for the 
ashes of dead ancestors?” asked Andy. “Was 
I stuck, too? ” 

“ Oh, no, not at all. Why, that is a very rare 
piece.” 

“What about that one in the window?” de- 
manded Andy. “ That’s only rare to the tune 
of several dollars less than I paid.” 

“Oh, but you are mistaken!” Ikey assured 
him. “ It takes an expert to tell the difference. 
You can ask Hashmi ” 

“ Hashmi be hanged! ” cried Dunk, giving the 
captured one a shake. A little crowd had gath- 
ered in the street to see the fun. 

“ I — I’ll give you whatever you think is right,” 
promised Ikey. “ Only let me go. I shall be 
late.” 

“ The late Mr. Stein,” laughed Andy. 


126 


Andy at Yale 

“ What about the rare satsuma piece you 
wished onto me? ” demanded Ted. 

“And that cloisonne flower vawse that has a 
crack in it? ” Thad wanted to know. 

“ That’s because it’s so old,” whined Ikey. 
“ It is more valuable.” 

“ There’s one in the window without a crack 
for three dollars less,” was the retort. 

“ Oh, well, if you fellows are dissatisfied with 
your bargains ” 

“ Oh, we’re not going to back down,” said 
Andy, “ but we’re not going to pay more than 
they’re worth, either. It was a plant, and you 
know it. Now you shell out all we paid above 
what the things are marked at in this window, 
and we’ll call it square — that is, if you don’t go 
around blabbing how you took us in.” 

“All right! All right!” cried Ikey. “I’ll 
do it, only let me go ! ” 

“No; pay first! Run him over to our rooms,” 
suggested Dunk. They were not far from the 
quadrangle, and catching hold of Ikey they ran 
him around into High Street and through the 
gateway beside Chittenden Hall to Wright. 
There, up in Andy’s and Dunk’s room, Ikey was 
made to disgorge his cash. But they were merci- 
ful to him and only took the difference in price. 

“Now you tell us how it happened, and we’ll 
let you go,” promised Andy. 


Dunk Goes Out 


127 


“ It was all Hashmi’s fault,” declared Ikey. 
“ I believed him when he said his brother in 
Japan had sent him a box of fine vawses. Hashmi 
said he didn’t need ’em all, and I said maybe we 
could sell ’em. So I did.” 

“ That was all right; but why did you stick up 
the price?” asked Andy. 

“ A fellow has to make money,” returned Ikey, 
innocently enough, and Dunk laughed. 

“ All right,” said Andy’s roommate. “ Don’t 
do it again, that’s all. Who is Hashmi’s 
brother? ” 

“ One of ’em keeps that Jap store where you 
were looking in the window,” said Ikey, edging 
out of the room, “ and the other is in Japan. 
He sent the stuff over to be sold in the regular 
way, but that sly Hashmi fooled me. Never 
again ! ” 

“ And you passed in on to us,” said Andy with 
a laugh. 

“Well, it’s all in the game.” 

“ Still, we’ve got the stuff,” said Ted. 

They had, but had they known it all they 
would have learned that, even at the lowered 
price they were paying dearly enough for the or- 
naments, and at that Hashmi and Ikey divided 
a goodly sum between them. 

The college days passed on. Andy and Dunk 
were settling down to the grind of study, making 


128 


Andy at Yale 

it as easy as they could for themselves, as did 
the other students. 

Andy kept on with his football practice, and 
made progress. He was named as second sub- 
stitute on the freshman team and did actually 
play through the fourth quarter in an important 
game, after it had been taken safely into the 
Yale camp. But he was proud even to do that, 
and made a field goal that merited him consid- 
erable applause. 

Mortimer had dropped out of the varsity 
team. There was good reason, for he would 
not train, and, though he could play brilliantly 
at times, he could not be depended on. 

“ I don’t care ! ” he boasted to his sporting 
crowd. “ I can have some fun, now.” 

Several times he and his crowd had come 
around to ask Dunk to go out with them, but 
Dunk had refused, much to Mortimer’s cha- 
grin. 

“Oh, come on, be a good fellow!” he had 
urged. 

“ No, I’ve got to do some boning.” 

“ Oh, forget it ! ” 

But Dunk would not, for which Andy was 
glad. 

Then came a period when Dunk went to pieces 
in his recitations. He was warned by his pro- 
fessors and tried to make up for it by hard study. 


Dunk Goes Out 


120 


He was not naturally brilliant and certain lessons 
came hard to him. 

He grew discouraged and talked of withdraw- 
ing. Andy did all he could for him, even to the 
neglect of his own standing, but it seemed to do 
no good. 

“What’s the use of it all, anyhow?” de- 
manded Dunk. “ I’ll spend four mortal years 
here, and come out with a noddle full of musty 
old Latin and Greek, go to work in dad’s New 
York office and forget it all in six months. I 
might as well start forgetting it now.” 

“You’ve got the wrong idea,” said Andy. 

“ Well, maybe I have. Hanged if I see how 
you do it ! ” 

“ I don’t do so well.” 

“But you don’t get floored as I do! I’m go- 
ing to chuck it! ” and he threw his Horace across 
the room, shattering the Japanese vase he had 
bought. 

“ Look out ! ” cried Andy. 

“Too late! I don’t give a hang!” 

Someone came along the hall. 

“What are you fellows up to?” asked a gay 
voice. “ Trying to break up housekeeping? ” 

“ It’s Gaffington ! ” murmured Andy. 

“ Come on in ! ” invited Dunk. 

“You fellows come on out!” retorted the 
newcomer. “ There’s a peach of a show at 


130 


Andy at Yale 

Poli’s. Let’s take it in and have supper at 
Burke’s afterward.” 

Dunk got up. 

“Hanged if I don’t!” he said, with a defiant 
look at Andy. 

“That’s the stuff! Be a sport!” challenged 
Mortimer. “Coming along, Blair?” 

“No.” 

Mortimer laughed. 

“ Go down among the dead ones ! ” he cried. 
“ Come on, Dunk, we’ll make a night of it! ” 
And they went out together, leaving Andy 
alone in the silent room. 


CHAPTER XVI 


IN BAD 

The clock was ticking. To Andy it sounded 
as loud as a timepiece in a tower. The rhythmic 
cadence seemed to fill the room. Somewhere off 
in the distance a bell boomed out — a church bell. 

Andy sat in a brown study, looking into the 
fireplace. A little blaze was going on the hearth, 
and the young student, gazing at the embers saw 
many pictures there. 

For some time Andy sat without stirring. He 
had listened to the retreating footsteps of Dunk 
and Mortimer as the boys passed down the corri- 
dor, laughing. 

Through Wright Hall there echoed other 
footsteps — coming and going — there was the 
sound of voices in talk and in gay repartee. Stu- 
dents called one to the other, or in groups hur- 
ried here and there, intent on pleasure. Andy 
sat there alone — thinking — thinking. 

A log in the fireplace broke with a suddenness 
that startled him. A shower of sparks flew up 
the chimney, and a little puff of smoke shot out 
into the room. Andy roused himself. 

131 


132 


Andy at Yale 

“ Oh, hang it all ! ” he exclaimed aloud. “ Why 
should I care? Let him go with that crowd — 
with Mort and his bunch if he likes. What dif- 
ference does it make to me? ” 

He stood up, his arm on the mantel where 
had rested the Japanese vase> purchased so mys- 
teriously. Now only the fragments of it were 
there. 

A comparison between that shattered vase and 
what might be the shattered friendship between 
himself and his roommate came to Andy, but he 
resolutely thrust it aside. 

“What difference does it make to me?” he 
asked himself. “ Let him go his own way, and 
I’ll go mine.” 

He crossed to the book rack on the window 
sill, intending to do some studying. On the 
broad stone ledge outside the casement he kept 
his bottle of spring water. It was a cooler 
place than the room. Andy poured himself out 
a drink, and as he sipped it he said again: 

“Why should I care what he does?” 

Then, from off in the distance he heard the 
chimes of a church, playing “ Adestes Fideles.” 

He stood listening — entranced as the tones 
came to him, softened by the night air. 

And there seemed to whisper to him a still, 
small voice that asked: 

“Am I my brother’s keeper?” 


In Bad 


133 


Andy shut the window softly, and, going back 
to his chair sat staring into the fire. It was dy- 
ing down, the embers settling into the dead ashes. 
It was very still and quiet in the little room. All 
Wright Hall was very still and quiet now. 

“ I — I guess I’ll have to care — after all,’’ 
whispered Andy. 

Footsteps were heard coming along the cor- 
ridor, and, for a moment Andy had a wild hope 
that it might be Dunk returning. But as he 
listened he knew it was not his chum 1 . 

Someone knocked on the door. 

“ Come ! ” called Andy sharply. It could be 
none of his friends, he knew. 

A messenger entered with a note, and, observ- 
ing an unfamiliar handwriting, Andy wondered 
from whom it could be. He ripped it open and 
uttered an exclamation. He read: 

“ Dear Mr. Blair: 

“ I am doing a little engagement at 
Poli’s. Won’t you drop around and see me? I 
promise not to compel you to play the fireman. 

“ Sincerely yours, 

“ Mazie Fuller.” 

“Jove!” murmured Andy. “I forgot all 
about her.” 

“Any answer?” asked the messenger. 


134 


Andy at Yale 


“No” 

The boy started out. 

“Oh, yes. Wait a minute.” Andy scribbled 
an acceptance. 

“ Here,” he said, and handed the boy a quar- 
ter. 

“ T’anks ! ” exclaimed the urchin. Then with 
a roguish glance he added: “Gee, but you col- 
lege guys is great! ” 

“ Hop along! ” commanded Andy briefly. 

Should he go, after all? He had said he 
would and yet 

“ Oh, hang it ! I guess I’d better go ! ” he said 
aloud, just as though he had not intended to all 
along. He turned up the light and began throw- 
ing about a pile of neckties. He tried first one 
and then another. None seemed to satisfy him, 
and when he did get the hue that suited him it 
would not allow itself to be properly tied. 

“ Oh, rats ! ” Andy exclaimed. “ Why should 
I care? ” 

Why indeed? It is one of the mysteries. 
“ Vanity of vanities ” and the rest of it. 

As he entered Poli’s Andy was aware that 
something unusual was going on. The ushers 
were grinning with good-natured tolerance, but 
there was rather an anxious look on the faces of 
some of the women in the audience. Some of 
their male escorts appeared resentful. 


In Bad 


135 


Andy had been obliged to purchase a box seat, 
as there were no vacant ones in the body of the 
house. As he sank into his chair, rather back, 
for the box was well filled, he saw a college class- 
mate. 

“What’s up?” he asked, the curtain then be- 
ing down to allow of a change of scene. 

“ Oh, Gaffington and his crowd are joshing 
some of the acts.” 

“ Any row? ” 

“No, everybody takes it good-naturedly. 
Bunch of our fellows here to-night.” 

“Show any good? ” 

“ Pretty fair. Some of the things are punk. 
There’s a good number coming — Mazie Fuller 
— she’s got a new act. And Bodkins — you know 
the tramp juggler — the one who does things with 
cigar boxes — he’s coming on next. He’is a 
scream.” 

“Yes, I know him. He’s all right.” 

The curtain went up and from the wings came 
Miss Fuller. She had prospered in vaudeville, 
it seemed, for she had on a richer costume than 
the one she wore when she had been so nearly 
burned to death. 

'She was well received, and while singing her 
first number ishe looked about the house. Pres- 
ently she caught the eyes of Andy — he had leaned 
forward in the box, perhaps purposely. Miss 


136 


Andy at Yale 

Fuller smiled at him, and at once a chorus of 
cries arose from the students in the different 
parts of the theater. Up to then, since Andy’s 
entrance, there had been no commotion. Now 
it broke out again. 

“ Oh, get on to that! ” 

“The lad with the dreamy eyes! ” 

“ Oh, you Andy Blair! ” 

Andy sank back blushing, but Miss Fuller took 
it in good part. 

Her act went on, and was well received. She 
did not again look at Andy, possibly fearing to 
embarrass him. And then, as she retired after 
her last number — a veritable whirlwind song — 
there came a thunder of applause, mingled with 
shrill whistles, to compel an encore. 

Andy was aware of a disturbance in the front 
of the house. It was where a number of the 
students were seated, and Andy had a glimpse of 
Dunk Chamber. Beside him was Gaffington. 
Dunk had arisen and was swaying unsteadily on 
his feet. 

“ Sit down! ” 

“ Keep him quiet! ” 

“ Put him out ! ” 

“ Call the manager! ” 

“ Make him sit down! ” 

Andy began to feel uneasy. He could see the 
unhappy condition of his roommate and those 


In Bad 137 

with him. The worst he feared had come to 
pass. 

Swaying, but still managing not to step on any- 
one, Dunk made his way to the aisle, and then, 
getting close to the box where Andy sat, climbed 
over the rail. The manager motioned to an 
usher not to interfere. Probably he thought it 
was the best means of producing quiet. 

“ Here I am, Andy,” announced Dunk gravely. 

“ So I see,” spoke Andy, his face blazing at 
the notice he was receiving. “ Sit down and keep 
quiet. There’s a good act coming.” 

“Hush!” exclaimed a number of voices as 
the curtain slid up, to give place to “ Bustling 
Bodkins,” the tramp juggler. The actor came 
out in his usual ragged make-up, and proceeded 
to do things with a pile of empty cigar boxes — 
really a clever trick. Dunk watched him with 
curious gravity for a while and then started to 
climb over the footlights on to the stage. 

“No, you don’t, Dunk!” cried Andy, firmly, 
and despite his chum’s protests he hauled him 
back. Then he took Dunk firmly by the arm and 
marched him out of a side entrance of the show- 
house. 


CHAPTER XVII 


andy's despair 

“ Pretty bad 1 ; was I, Andy?” 

“Yes” 

“ Whew ! What a headache ! Any ice water 
left?” 

“ I’ll get some.” 

“ Never mind. What’s there’ll do.” 

It was morning — there always is a “ morning 
after.” Perhaps it is a good thing, for it is na- 
ture’s protest against violations of her code of 
health. 

Dunk drank deep of the water Andy handed 
him. 

“ That’s better,” he said, with a sigh. “ Guess 
I won’t get up just yet.” 

“ Going to cut out chapel? ” 

“ I should say yes ! My head is splitting now 
and to go there and hear that old organ boom- 
ing out hymns would snap it off my neck. No 
chapel for me ! ” 

“You know what it means.” 

“ Well, I can’t be in much worse than I am. 

138 


Andy’s Despair 139 

I’ll straighten up after a bit. No lectures to- 
day.” 

“You’re going the pace,” observed Andy. It 
was not said with that false admiration which 
so often keeps a man on the wrong road from 
sheer bravado. Andy was rather white, and his 
lips trembled. 

“ It does seem so,” admitted Dunk, gloomily 
enough. 

“Any more water there?” he, asked, pres- 
ently. 

“ I’ll get some,” offered Andy, and he soon re- 
turned with a pitcher in which ice tinkled. 

“ That sounds good,” murmured his room- 
mate. “ Was I very bad last night? ” 

“ Oh, so-so.” 

“ Made a confounded idiot of myself, I sup- 
pose?” and he glanced sharply at Andy over 
the top of the glass. 

“ Oh, well, we all do at times.’’ 

“ I haven’t seen you do it yet.” 

“You will if you room with me long enough, 
Dunk.” 

“ Yes, but not in the way I mean.” 

“Oh, well, I’m no moralist; but I hope you 
never will see me that way. Understand, I’m 
not preaching, but ” 

“ I know. You don’t care for it.” 

“ That’s it.”- 


140 


Andy at Yale 

“ I wish I didn’t. But you don’t understand.” 

“ Maybe not,” said Andy slowly. “ I’m not 
judging you in the least.” 

“ I know, old man. How’d you get me 
home?” 

“ Oh, you were tractable enough. I got a 
taxi.” 

“ I’ll settle with you later. I don’t seem to 
have any cash left.” 

“ Forget it. I can lend you some.” 

“ I may need it, Andy. Hang Gaffington and 
his crowd anyhow ! I’m not going out with them 
again.” 

Andy made no reply. He had been much 
pained and hurt by the episode in the theater. 
Public attention had been attracted to him by 
Dunk’s conduct; but, more than this, Andy re- 
membered a startled and surprised look in the 
eyes of Miss Fuller, who came out on the stage 
when Dunk interrupted the tramp act. 

“ If only I could have had a chance to explain,” 
thought Andy. But there had been no time. He 
had helped to take Dunk away. When this 
Samaritan act was over the theater had closed, 
and Andy did not think it wise to look up Miss 
Fuller at her hotel. 

“ I’ll see her again,” he consoled himself. 

The chapel bell boomed out, and Andy started 
for the door. 


141 


Andy’s Despair 

“What a head! ” grumbled Dunk again. “I 
say, Andy, what’s good when a fellow makes an 
infernal idiot of himself? ” 

“ In your case a litle bromo might help.” 

“Got any?” 

“No, but I can get you some.” 

“ Oh, don’t bother. When you come back, 
maybe ” 

“ I’ll get it,” said Andy, shortly. 

He was late for chapel when he had succeeded 
in administering a dose of the quieting medicine 
to Dunk, and this did not add to the pleasures 
of the occasion. However, there was no help 
for it. 

Somehow the miserable day following the mis- 
erable night ended, and Andy was again back 
in the room with Dunk.The latter was feeling 
quite “ chipper ” again. 

“ Oh, well, it’s a pretty good old world after 
all,” Dunk said. “ I think I can eat a little 
now. Never again for me, Andy! Do you hear 
that?” 

“ I sure do, old man.” 

“ And that goes. Put her there ! ” 

They shook hands. It meant more to Andy 
than he would admit. He had gone, that after- 
noon, to the theater, where Miss Fuller was on 
for a matinee, and, sending back his card, with 
some flowers, had been graciously received. He 


142 Andy at Yale 

managed to make her understand, without saying 
too much. 

“ I’m so glad it wasn’t — you ! ” she said, with 
a warm pressure of her hand. 

“ I’m glad too,” laughed Andy. 

“ No sir — never again ! ” said Dunk that even- 
ing, as he got out his books. “You hear me, 
Andy- — never again ! ” 

“ That’s the way to talk! ” 

It was hard work at Yale. No college is in- 
tended for children, and the New Haven Uni- 
versity in particular has a high aim for its stu- 
dents. 

Andy “ buckled down,” and was doing well. 
His standing in class, while not among the high- 
est, was satisfactory, and he was in line for a 
place on the freshman eleven. 

How he did practice! No slave worked 
harder or took more abuse from the coaches. 
Andy was glad of one thing — that Gaffington 
was out of it. There were others, though, who 
tackled Andy hard in the scrimmages, but he 
rather liked it, for there was no vindictiveness 
back of it. 

As for Mortimer, he and his crowd went on 
their sporting way, doing just enough college 
work not to fall under the displeasure of the 
Dean or other officials. But it was a “ close 
shave ” at times. 


143 


Andy’s Despair 

Dunk seemed to stick to his resolution. He, 
too, was studying hard, and for several nights 
after the theater escapade did not go out even- 
ings. Andy was rejoicing, and then, just when 
his hopes were highest, they were suddenly 
dashed. 

There had been a period of hard work, and it 
was followed by a football disaster. Yale met 
Washington and Jefferson, and while part of the 
Bulldog’s poor form might be ascribed to a 
muddy field, it was not all that. There was 
fumbling and ragged playing, and Yale had not 
been able to score. Nor was it any consolation 
that the other team had not either. Several 
times their players had menaced Yale’s goal line, 
and only by supreme efforts was a touchdown 
avoided. As it stood it was practically a defeat 
for Yale, and everybody, from the varsity mem- 
bers to the digs, were as blue as the cushions in 
the dormitory window seats. 

Andy and Dunk sat in their room, thankful 
that it was Saturday night, with late chapel and 
no lessons on the morrow. 

“Rotten, isn’t it, Andy?” said Dunk. 

“ Oh, it might be worse. The season is only 
just opening. We’ll beat Harvard and Princeton 
all right.” 

“Jove! If we don’t I ” Dunk looked alarmed. 

“ Oh, we will ! ” asserted Andy. 


144 


Andy at Yale 

Dunk seemed nervous. He was pacing up and 
down the room. Finally, stopping in front of 
Andy he said : 

“ Come on out. Let’s go to a show — or some- 
thing. Let’s go down to Burke’s place and see 
the fellows. I want to get rid of this blue feel- 
ing.” 

“ All right, I’ll go,” said Andy, hesitating only 
a moment. 

They were just going out together when there 
came the sound of footsteps and laughter down 
the corridor. Andy started as he recognized the 
voice of Gaffington. 

“ Oh Dunk! Are you there?” was called, 
gleefully. 

“ Yes, I’m here,” was the answer, and it 
sounded to Andy as though his chum was glad to 
hear that voice. 

“ Come out and have some fun. Bully show 
at the Hyperion. No end of sport. Come 
on!” 

Mortimer, with Clarence Boyle and Len Scott, 
came around the corner of the corridor, arm in 
arm. 

“Oh, you and Blair off scouting? ” asked Gaf- 
fington, pausing before the two. 

“ We were going out — yes,” admitted Dunk. 

“We’ll make a party of it then. Fall in, 
Blair!” 


145 


Andy’s Despair 

Andy rather objected to the patronizing tone 
of Mortimer, but he did not feel like resenting 
it then. Should he go ? 

Dunk glanced at his chum somewhat in doubt. 

“Will you come, Andy?” he asked, hesitat- 
ingly. 

“ Yes — I guess so.” 

“ We’ll make a night of it! ” cried Len. 

“Not for mine,” laughed Andy. “I’m in 
training, you know.” 

“Well, we’ll keep Dunk then. Come on.” 

They set out together, Andy with many mis- 
givings in his heart. 

Noisy and stirring was the welcome they re- 
ceived at Burke’s. It was the usual story. The 
night wore on, and Dunk’s good resolutions 
slipped away gradually. 

“ Come on, Andy, be a sport! ” he said, rais- 
ing his glass. 

Andy smiled and shook his head. Then a bit- 
ter feeling came into his heart — a feeling mingled 
with despair. 

“ Hang it all ! ” he murmured to himself. 
“ I’m going to quit. I’ll let him go the pace as 
he wants to. I’m done with him ! ” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


andy's resolve 

“ Come on back! ” 

“ Don’t be a quitter! ” 

“ It’s early yet!” 

“ The fun hasn’t started! ” 

These cries greeted Andy as he rose to leave 
Burke’s place. His eyes smarted from the smoke 
of many pipes, and his ears rang with the echoes 
of college songs. His heart ached too, as he saw 
Dunk in the midst of the gay and festive throng 
surrounding Gaffington and his wealthy chums. 

“ I’ve got to turn in — training, you know,” ex- 
plained Andy with a smile. It was the one and 
almost only excuse that would be accepted. Two 
or three more of the athletic set dropped out with 
him. 

“ Goin’, Andy?” asked Dunk, standing rather 
unsteadily at a table. 

“Yes. Coming?” asked Andy pausing, and 
hoping, with all his heart, that Dunk would come. 

“Not on your life! There’s too much fun 
here. Have a good time when you’re living, say 
146 


147 


Andy’s Resolve 

I. You’re an awful long time dead! Here you 
are, waiter!” and Dunk beckoned to the man. 

Andy paused a moment — and only for a mo- 
ment. Then he hardened his heart and turned 
to go. 

“ Leave the door open,” Dunk called after 
him. “ I’ll be home in th’ mornin’.” 

And then the crowd burst out into the refrain : 

“ He won’t be home until morning, 

He won’t be home until morning.” 

Over and over again rang the miserable chant 
that has bolstered up so many a man who, other- 
wise, would stop before it was too late. 

Andy breathed deep of the cool night air as he 
got outside. The streets were quiet and de- 
serted, save for those who had come out with 
him, and who went their various ways. As Andy 
turned down a side street he could still hear, 
coming faintly to him through the quiet night 
the strains of: 

“ We won’t go home until morning.” 

“ Poor old Dunk ! ” mused Andy. “ I hate to 
quit him, but I’ve got to. I’m not going to be 
looking after him all the while. It’s too much 


148 Andy at Yale 

work. Besides, he won’t stay decent perma- 
nently.” 

He was angry and hurt that all his roommate’s 
good resolutions should thus easily be cast to the 
winds. 

“ I’m just going to quit ! ” exclaimed Andy 
fiercely. “ I’ve done all I could. Besides, it 
isn’t my affair anyhow. I’ll get another room 
— one by myself. Oh, hang it all, anyhow! ” 

Moody, angry, rather dissatisfied with him- 
self, wholly dissatisfied with Dunk, Andy 
stumbled on. As he turned out of Chapel into 
High Street he saw before him two men who were 
talking earnestly. Andy could not help hearing 
what they said. 

“ Is the case hopeless?” one asked. 

“ Oh, no, I wouldn’t say that.” 

“Yet he’s promised time and again to reform, 
and every time he slips back again.” 

“Yes, I know. He isn’t the only one at the 
mission who does that.” 

Andy guessed they were church workers. 

“Don’t you get tired?” asked the questioner. 

“ Oh, yes, often. But then I get rested.” 

“ But this chap seems such a bad case.” 

“ They’re all bad, more or less. I don’t mind 
that.” 

“And you’re going to try again?” 

“ I sure am. He’s worth saving.” 


149 


Andy’s Resolve 

Andy felt as though some one had dealt him a 
blow. “ Worth saving!” Yes, that was it. 
He saw a light. 

The two men passed on. Andy hesitated. 

“ Worth saving! ” 

It seemed as though some one had shouted the 
words at him. 

“ Worth saving!” 

Andy’s heart was beating tumultuously. His 
head and pulses throbbed. His ears rang. 

He stood still on the sidewalk, near the gate- 
way beside Chittenden Hall. His room was a 
little way beyond. It would be easy to go there 
and go to bed, and Andy was very tired. He 
had played a hard game of football that day. It 
was so easy to go to his room, and leave Dunk 
to look after himself. 

What was the use? 

And yet 

“ He is worth saving! ,f 

Andy struggled with himself. Again he 
seemed to hear that voice whispering: 

“Am I my brother’s keeper?” 

Andy turned resolutely away from the college 
buildings. He set his face again down High 
Street, and swung out into Chapel. 

“ I’ll go get him,” he said, simply. “ He’s 
worth saving. Maybe I can’t do it — but — I’ll 
try!” 


CHAPTER XIX 


LINK COMES TO COLLEGE 

With hesitating steps Andy pushed open the 
door of Burke’s place and entered. At first he 
could make out little through the haze of tobacco 
smoke, and his return was not noticed. Most 
of the college boys were in the rear room, and 
the noise of their jollity floated out to Andy. 

“I wonder if Dunk is still there ?” he mur- 
mured. 

He learned a moment later, for he heard some 
one call: 

“Stand up, Dunk! Your eye on us!” 

“He’s in there — and I’ve got to save him!” 
Andy groaned. Then, with clenched teeth and a 
firm step he went into the rear room, among that 
crowd of roistering students. 

Andy’s reappearance was the signal for a burst 
of good-natured jibing, mingled with cries of ap- 
proval. 

“ Here he comes back! ” 

“ I knew he couldn’t stay awry! ” 

150 


151 


Link Comes to College 

“Who said he was a quitter ?” 

From among the many glasses offered Andy 
selected a goblet of ginger ale. He looked about 
the tables, and saw Dunk at one, regarding him 
with a rather uncertain eye. 

“ There he is ! ” cried Andy’s roommate, wav- 
ing his hand. “ That’s him. My old college 
chum! I’m his protector! I always look after 
him. I say,” and he turned to the youth beside 
him, “ I say, what is it I protect my old college 
from anyhow? Hanged if I haven’t forgotten. 
What is it I save him from?” 

“ From himself, I guess,” was the answer. 
“ You’re all right, Dunk! ” 

“ Come on, Dunk,” said Andy good naturedly. 
“ I’m going to the room. Coming? ” 

Instantly there was a storm of protest. 

“Of course he’s not coming!” 

“ It’s early yet!” 

“ Don’t you go, Dunk! ” 

Mortimer Gaffington, fixing an insolent and 
supercilious stare on Andy, said: 

“ Don’t mind him, Dunk. You’re not tied to 
him, remember. The little-brother-come-in-out- 
of-the-wet game doesn’t go at Yale. Every man 
stands on his own feet. Eh, Dunk?” 

“ That’s right.” 

“ You’re not going to leave your loving friends 
and go home so early; are you. Dunk?” 


152 


Andy at Yale 

“ Course not. Can’t leave my friends. But 
Andy’s my friend, too; ain’t you, Andy? ” 

“ I hope so, Dunk,” Andy replied, gravely. 

Somebody interrupted with a song, and there 
was much laughter. Mortimer alone seemed to 
be the sinister influence at work, and he hovered 
near Dunk as if to counteract the good intentions 
of Andy. 

“ Here you are, waiter! ” cried Dunk. “ Every- 
body have something — ginger ale, soda water, 
pop, anything they like. Cigars, too.” He 
pulled out a bill — a yellow-back — and Andy saw 
Mortimer take it from his shaking fingers. 

“Don’t be so foolish! ” exclaimed the sopho- 
more. “You don’t want to spend all that. 
Here, I’ll hand out a fiver and keep this for you 
until morning. You can settle with me later,” 
and Gaflington slipped the big bill into his own 
pocket, and produced one of his own — of smaller 
denomination. 

“ That’s good,” murmured Dunk. “ You’re 
my friend and protector — same as I’m Andy’s 
protector. We’re all protectors. Come on, fel- 
lows, another song! ” 

Andy was beginning to wonder how he would 
get his chum home. It was getting very late and 
to enter Wright Hall at an unseemly hour meant 
trouble. 

“ Come on, Dunk — let’s light out,” said Andy 


153 


Link Comes to College 

again, making his way to his roommate’s side. 

“ No, you don’t ! ” 

“ That game won’t go ! ” 

“Let Dunk alone, he can look out for him- 
self.” 

Laughing and expostulating, the others got be- 
tween Andy and his friend. It was all in good- 
natured fun, for most of the boys, beyond per- 
haps smoking a little more than was good for 
them, were not at all reckless. But the spirit 
of the night seemed to have laid hold of all. 

“ Come on, Dunk,” appealed Andy. 

“He’s going to stay!” declared Mortimer, 
thrusting himself between Andy and Dunk, and 
sticking out his chin in aggressive fashion. “ I 
tell you he’s going to stay! We don’t want any 
of your goody-goody methods here, Blair! ” 
Andy ignored the affront. 

“ Are you coming, Dunk? ” he repeated softly. 
Dunk raised his head and flashed a look at his 
roommate. Something in Dunk’s better nature 
must have awakened. And yet he was all good 
nature, so it is difficult to speak of the “ better ” 
side. The trouble was that he was too good- 
natured. Yet at that instant he must have had 
an understanding of what Andy’s plan was — to 
save him from himself. 

“ You want me to come with you? ” he asked 
slowly. 


154 


Andy at Yale 

“ Yes-, Dunk.” 

“ Then I’m coming.” 

Mortimer put his arm around Dunk and whis- 
pered in his ear. 

“ You don’t want to go,” he insisted. 

“Yes, he does,” said 1 Andy, firmly. 

For a moment he and the other youth faced 
each other. It was a struggle of wills for the 
mastery of a character, and Andy won — at least 
the first “ round.” 

“ I’m going with my friend,” said Dunk firmly, 
and despite further protests he went out with his 
arm over Andy’s shoulder. There were cries 
and appeals to remain, but Dunk heeded them 
not. 

“ I’m going to quit,” he announced. “ Had 
enough fun for to-night.” 

Out in the clear, cool air Andy breathed free 
again. 

“ Shall I get a cab?” he asked. “There must 
be one somewhere around.” 

“ Certainly not,” answered Dunk. “ I — I can 
walk, I guess.” 

They reached Wright Hall, neither speaking 
much on the way. Andy was glad — and sorry. 
Sorry that Dunk had allowed his resolution to 
be broken, but glad that he had been able to stop 
his friend in time. 

Thanks, old man,” said Dunk, briefly, as they 


Link Comes to College 155 

reached their room. u You’ve done more than 
you know.” 

“ That’s all right,” replied Andy, in a low 
voice. 

Dunk went to chapel with Andy the next morn- 
ing, but he was rather silent during the day, and 
he flunked miserably in several recitations on the 
days following. Truth to tell he was in no con- 
dition to put his mind seriously on lessons, but he 
tried hard. 

Andy, coming in from football practice one af- 
ternoon, found Dunk standing in the middle of 
the apartment staring curiously at a yellow-backed 
ten-dollar bill he was holding in J^oth of his 
hands. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Andy. “A 
windfall? ” 

“ No, Gaflington just sent it in to me. Said it 
was one he took the other night when I flashed it 
at Burke’s.” 

“Oh, yes, I remember,” spoke Andy. “You 
were getting too generous.” 

“ I know that part of it — Gaflington meant all 
right. But I don’t understand this.” 

“What?” asked Andy. 

“ Why, this is a ten-spot, and I’m sure I had a 
twenty that night. However, I may be mistaken 
— I guess I couldn’t see straight. But I was sure 
it was a twenty. Don’t say anything about it, 


156 


Andy at Yale 

though — probably I was wrong. It was decent 
of Gaffington not to let me lose it all.” 

And Dunk thrust the ten dollar bill into his 
pocket. 

It was several days after this when Andy, 
crossing the quadrangle, saw a familiar figure 
raking up the leaves on the campus. 

u What in the world is he doing here 1 — if that’s 
him? ” he asked himself. “ And yet it does look 
like him.” 

He came closer. The young fellow raking up 
the leaves turned, and Andy exclaimed: 

“Link Bardon! What in the world are you 
doing here? ” 

“ Oh, I’ve come to college ! ” replied the young 
farm hand, smiling. “ How do you do, Mr. 
Blair?” 

“Come to college, eh?” laughed Andy. 
“What course are you taking?” 

“ I expect to get the degree B. W. — bachelor 
of work,” was the rejoinder. “ I’m sort of as- 
sistant janitor here now.” 

“Is that so! How did it happen?” 

“ Well, you know the last time I saw you I 
was on my way to see if I could locate an uncle 
of mine, just outside of New Haven. I didn’t, 
for he’d moved away. Then I got some odd bits 
of work to do, and finally, coming to town with a 
young fellow, who, like myself was out of work, 


Link Comes to College 157 

I heard of this place, applied for it and got it. I 
like it.” 

“Well, I’m glad you are here,” said Andy. 
“ If I can help you in any way let me know.” 

“ I will, Mr. Blair. You did help a lot be- 
fore,” and he went on raking leaves, while Andy, 
musing on the strange turns of luck and chance, 
hurried on to his lecture. 


CHAPTER XX 


QUEER DISAPPEARANCES 

“Come in! ” cried Andy as a knock sounded. 

“ I’m not going out, I don’t care who it is ! ” 
exclaimed Dunk, fidgeting in his chair. “ I’ve 
just got to get this confounded Greek.” 

“ Same here,” said Andy. 

The door was pushed open and a shock of 
dark, curly hair was thrust in. 

“ Like to look at some swell neckties ! ” a voice 
asked. 

“ Oh, come in, you blooming old haber- 
dasher ! ” cried Andy with a laugh, and Ikey 
Stein, with a bundle under his arm, slid in. 

“ Fine business ! ” he exclaimed. “ Give me 
a chance to make a little money, gentlemen; I 
need it ! ” 

“No more of that Japanese ‘vawse’ busi- 
ness!” warned Dunk. “I won’t stand for it.” 

“ No, these are genuine bargains,” declared 
the student who was working his way through 
college. “ I’ll show you. I got ’em from a 
friend of mine, who’s selling out. I can make 
15B 


159 


Queer Disappearances 

a little something on them, and you’ll get swell 
scarfs at less than you’d pay for them in a store.” 

“ Let’s see,” suggested Andy, rather glad of 
the diversion and of the chance to stop studying, 
for he had been “ boning ” hard. “ But I don’t 
want any satsuma pattern, nor yet a cloisonne,” 
he added. 

“ Say, forget that,” begged Ikey. “ That Jap 
took me in, as well as he did you fellows.” 

“Well, if anybody can take you in, Ikey, he’s 
a good one! ” laughed Dunk. 

“ Oh, don’t mind me ! ” exclaimed the mer- 
chant-student. “ You can’t hurt my feelings. 
I’m used to it. And I’m not ashamed of my 
nature, either. My ancestors were all mer- 
chants, and they had to drive hard bargains to 
live. I don’t exactly do that, you understand, but 
I guess it’s in my blood. I’m not ashamed that 
I’m a Jew ! ” 

“And we’re not ashamed of you, either!” 
cried Andy, heartily. 

“Same here,” added Dunk. “Trot out your 
ties, Ikey.” 

In spite of the fact that he sometimes insisted 
on the students buying things they did not really 
need, Ikey was a general favorite in the college. 

“ There’s a fine one ! ” he exclaimed, holding 
up a hideous red and green scarf. “ Only a 
dollar — worth two.” 


160 


Andy at Yale 

“Wouldn’t have it if you paid me for it!” 
cried Andy. “ Show me something that a fellow 
could wear without hearing it yell a block away.” 

“ Oh, you want something chaste and quiet,” 
suggested Ikey. “ I have the very thing. 
There ! ” holding it up. “ That is a mere whis- 
per! ” 

“ It’s a pretty loud whisper,” commented 
Dunk, “ but at that it isn’t so bad. I’ll take it, 
if you don’t want it, Andy.” 

“You’re welcome to it. I want something in 
a golden brown.” 

“ Here you are ! ” exclaimed Ikey, sorting over 
his stock. 

He succeeded in selling Andy and Dunk two 
scarfs each, and tried to get them to take more, 
but they were firm. Then the merchant-student 
departed to other rooms. 

“ It’s a queer way to get along,” commented 
Andy, when he had finished admiring his pur- 
chases. 

“Yes, but I give him credit for it,” went on 
Dunk. “ He meets with a lot of discourage- 
ment, and some of the fellows are positively rude 
to him, but he’s always the same — good-natured 
and willing to put up with it. He’s working 
hard for his education.” 

“ Harder than you and I,” commented Andy. 
“ I wonder if we’d do it? ” 


161 


Queer Disappearances 

“ I’d hate to have it thrust on me. But I do 
give Stein credit.” 

“Yes, only for that Japanese vase business.” 

“ Oh, well, I believe that oily Jap did put one 
over on him.” 

“ Possibly. Oh, rats ! Here come some of 
the fellows ! ” 

The sound of footsteps was heard in the cor- 
ridor. Andy glanced at Dunk. If it should 
prove to be Mortimer Gaffington, who, of late 
had tried in vain to get Dunk to go out with 
him, what was to be done? Andy caught his 
breath sharply. 

But it proved to be a needless alarm, for Bob 
Hunter, Ted Wilson and Thad Warburton came 
in with noisy greetings. 

“ Look at the digs ! ” 

“Boning away on a night like this!” 

“‘Come into the garden, Maud!’ Chuck 
that, you fellows, and let’s go downtown. What’s 
the matter with a picture show?” 

It was Thad who asked this, but Bob, with a 
wry face, put his hand in his pocket and drew out 
seven cents. 

“ It doesn’t look much like a picture show for 
me to-night,” he said. 

“ Oh, I’ll stake you ! ” exclaimed Ted. “ Come 
on.” 

“ Shall we? ” asked Dunk doubtfully of Andy. 


162 


Andy at Yale 

“ Might as well, I guess,” was the answer. 
Andy was glad it had not been Gaffington, and he 
realized that it might be better to take this chance 
now of getting Dunk out, before the rich youth 
and his fast companions came along, as they 
might later in the evening. He knew that with 
Bob, Ted and Thad, there would be no long ses- 
sion at Burke’s. 

“I haven’t done my Greek,” objected Dunk, 
hesitatingly. 

“ Oh, well, I’ll set the alarm clock, and we’ll 
get up an hour earlier in the morning and floor 
it,” suggested Andy. 

“ Burning the candle at both ends! ” protested 
Dunk, with a sigh. “Ain’t I terrible? But lead 
me to it! ” 

As they went out of Wright Hall, Andy looked 
across the campus and saw Gaffington, and some 
of his boon companions, approaching. 

“Just in time,” he murmured. When Gaffing- 
ton saw Dunk in charge of his friends he and the 
others turned aside. 

“ That’s when I got ahead of him ! ” exulted 
our hero. 

They spent a pleasant evening, and Andy and 
Dunk were back in their room at a reasonable 
hour. 

“ I declare ! ” exclaimed Dunk, “ I feel pretty 
fresh yet. I think I’ll have another go at that 


Queer Disappearances 163 

Greek. We won’t have to get up with the chick- 
ens then.” 

“ I’m with you,” agreed Andy, and they did 
more studying than they had done in some time. 

“ Well, I’m through,” yawned Dunk, flinging 
his book on the table. “ Now I’m going to hit 
the hay.” 

The next day Dunk was complimented on his 
recitation. 

“ Oh, I tell you it pays to bone a bit! ” Andy 
cried, clapping Dunk on the back as they came 
out. 

“ That’s right,” agreed the other. 

In the days that followed Andy watched Dunk 
closely. And, to our hero’s delight, Gaflington 
seemed to be losing his influence. Several times 
Dunk refused to go out with him — refused good- 
naturedly enough, but steadfastly. 

Andy tried to get Dunk interested in football, 
and did to a certain extent. Dunk went out to 
the practice, and Andy tried to get him to go into 
training. 

“No, it’s too late,” was the answer. “Next 
year, maybe. But I like to see you fellows rub 
your noses in the dirt. Go to it, Andy!” 

Link Bardon seemed to find his employment 
at Yale congenial. Andy met him several times 
and had some little talk with him. The young 
farmer said he hoped to get permanent employ- 


164 


Andy at Yale 

ment at the college, his present position being 
only for a limited time. 

Andy had received letters from some of his 
former chums at Milton. Among them were 
missives from Ben Snow and Chet Anderson. 
Chet wrote from Harvard, where he had gone, 
that he would see Andy at the Yale-Harvard 
game, while from Ben, who had gone to Prince- 
ton, came a similar message, making an appoint- 
ment for a good old-fashioned talk at the annual 
clash of the Bulldog and Tiger. 

“ I’ll be glad to see them again,” said Andy. 

It was about two weeks after the arrival of 
Link Bardon at Yale that some little disturbance 
was occasioned throughout the college, when an 
announcement was made at chapel one morning. 
It was from the Dean, and stated that a number 
of articles had been reported as missing from 
the rooms of various students. 

“ You are requested to keep your doors locked 
when you are out of your rooms,” the announce- 
ment concluded. 

There was a buzz of excitement as the students 
filed out. 

“ What does it mean? ” 

“ Who lost anything? ” 

“ I have,” said one. “ My new sapphire cuff 
buttons were swiped.” 

“ I lost a ring,” added another. 


165 


Queer Disappearances 

u And a diamond scarf pin I left on my dresser 
walked off — or someone walked off with it,” 
spoke a third. 

There were several other mysterious losses 
mentioned. 

“How did it happen?” asked Andy of a fel- 
low student who had said a few dollars had been 
taken from his dresser. 

“ Hanged if I know,” was the answer. u I 
left the money in my room, and when I came back 
it was gone.” 

“ Was the room locked?” 

“ It sure was.” 

“ Did any of the monitors or janitors see any- 
one go in? ” 

“Not that I know of; but of course it could 
happen. There are a lot of new men working 
around here, anyhow.” 

Andy thought of Link, and hoped that the far- 
mer lad would not be suspected on account of be- 
ing a stranger. 

But as the days went on the number of mys- 
terious thefts grew. Every dormitory in the 
quadrangle had been visited, but the buildings 
outside the hollow square seemed immune. 


CHAPTER XXI 


A GRIDIRON BATTLE 

Harvard was about to meet Yale in the an- 
nual football game between the freshman teams. 
The streets were filled with pretty girls, and more 
pretty girls, with “ sporty ” chaps in mackinaws, 
in raglans — with all sorts of hats atop of their 
heads, and some without hats at all. 

There had been the last secret final practice 
on Yale Field the day before. That night the 
Harvard team and its followers had arrived, put- 
ting up at Hotel Taft. 

Andy, in common with other candidates for the 
team, was sitting quietly in his room, for Holwell, 
the coach, had forbidden any liveliness the night 
before the game. And Andy had a chance to 
play. 

True, It was but a bare chance, but it was 
worth saving. He had played brilliantly on the 
scrub team for some time, and had been named 
as a possible substitute. If several backs ahead 
of him were knocked out, or slumped at the last 
moment, Andy would go in. And, without in 
1 66 


A Gridiron Battle 167 

the least wishing misfortune to a fellow student, 
how Andy did wish he could play ! 

There came a knock on the door — a timid, 
hesitating sort of knock. 

“ Oh, hang it! If that’s Ikey, trying to sell me 
a blue sweater, I’ll throw him down stairs ! ” 
growled Andy. He was nervous. 

“Come in!” called Dunk, laughing. 

“ Is Andy Blair Oh, hello, there you are, 

old man!” cried a voice and Chet Anderson 
thrust his head into the room. 

“Well, you old rosebud!” yelled Andy, leap- 
ing out of the easy chair with such energy that 
the bit of furniture slid almost into the big fire- 
place. “ Where’d you blow in from?” 

“ I came with the Harvard bunch. I told you 
I’d see you here.” 

“ I know, but I didn’t expect to see you until 
the game. You’re not going to play?” 

“No — worse luck! Wish I was. Hear you 
may be picked.” 

“ There’s a chance, that’s all.” 

“ Oh, well, we’ll lick you anyhow! ” 

“Yes, you will, you old tomcat! ” and the two 
clasped hands warmly, and looked deep into each 
other’s eyes. 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Andy. “ I forgot. Chet, 
this is my chum, Duncan Chamber — Dunk for 


168 Andy at Yale 

short. Dunk — Chet Anderson. I went to Mil- 
ton with him.” 

The two shook hands, and Chet sat down, he 
and Andy at once exchanging a fund of talk, 
with Dunk now and then getting in a word. 

“Did you come on with the team?” asked 
Andy. 

“ Yes, and it’s some little team, too, let me tell 
you ! ” 

“Glad to hear it!” laughed Andy. “Yale 
doesn’t like to punch a bag of mush ! ” 

“ Oh, you won’t find any mush in Harvard. 
Say, have you heard from Ben? ” 

“Yes, saw him at the Princeton game.” 

“ How was he? ” 

“ Fine and dandy.” 

“ That’s good. Then he likes it down 
there? ” 

“ Yes. He’s going in for baseball. Hopes to 
pitch on the freshman team, but I don’t know.” 

“You didn’t play against the Tiger?” 

“ No, there wasn’t any need of me. Yale had 
it all her own way.” 

“ She won’t to-morrow.” 

“ Wait and see.” 

Thus they talked until Chet, knowing that 
Andy must want to get rest, in preparation for 
the gridiron battle, took his leave, promising to 
see his friend again. 


A Gridiron Battle 


169 


The stands were a mass of color — blue like 
the sky on one side of Yale Field, and red like 
a sunset on the other. The cheering cohorts, 
under the leadership of the various cheer leaders, 
boomed out their voices of defiance. 

Out trotted the Yale team and substitutes, of 
whom Andy was one. Instantly the blue of the 
sky seemed to multiply itself as a roar shook the 
sloping seats — the seats that ran down to the 
edge of a green field, marked off in lines of white. 

“Come on now, lively!” yelled the coaches, 
hardly making their voices heard above the fran- 
tic cheers. 

The players lined up and went through some 
rapid passes and kicking. Andy and the other 
substitutes took their places on the bench, en- 
veloped in blankets and their blue sweaters. 

Then a roar and a smudge of crimson, that 
flashed out from the other side of the field, told 
of the approach of the Harvard team. 

“Harvard! Harvard! Harvard!” 

It was an acclaim of welcome. 

Andy watched Yale’s opponents go through 
their snappy practice. 

“ They’re big and beefy,” he murmured, “ but 
we can do ’em. We’ve got to! Yale has got to 
win ! ” 

The captains consulted, the coin was flipped, 
and Harvard was to kick off. The teams gath- 


170 


Andy at Yale 

ered in a knot at either end of the field for a last 
consultation. Then the new ball was put in the 
center of the field. 

Andy found difficulty in getting his breath, and 
he noticed that the other players beside him had 
the same trouble. 

The whistle shrilled out, and the Harvard 
back, running, sent the yellow pigskin sailing well 
down the field. A wild yell greeted his perform- 
ance. One of the Yale players caught it and his 
interference formed before him. But he had not 
run it back ten yards before he was tackled. Now 
would come the first line-up, and it would be 
seen how Yale could buck the crimson. 

“Signal! ” Andy could hear their quarterback 
yell, and then the rest was swallowed up in a hum 
of excitement in the songs and cheers with which 
the students sought to urge on the defenders of 
the blue. 

There was a vicious plunge into the line, but 
the gain was small. 

“They’re holding us!” murmured Blake, at 
Andy’s side. 

“ Oh, it’s early yet,” answered Andy. He 
wondered why his hands pained him, and, look- 
ing at them found that he had been clenching 
them until the nails had made deep impressions 
in his palms. 

Again came a plunging, smashing attack at 


A Gridiron Battle 


171 


Harvard’s line, and a groan from the Yale sub- 
stitutes followed. The Yale back had been 
thrown for a loss. 

“We’ve got to kick now,” murmured Andy, 
and the signal came. 

Then it was the Yale ends showed their fleet- 
ness and they nailed the Harvard man before he 
had gained much. An exchange of punts fol- 
lowed, both teams having good kickers that 
year. 

Then came more line smashing, in which Yale 
gained a little. It was a fiercely fought game, 
so fierce that before five minutes of play Har- 
vard had to take one man out, and Yale lost 
two, from injuries that could not be patched up 
on the field. 

“ I’ve got a chance ! I’ve got a chance ! ” ex- 
ulted Andy. 

But it was not rejoicing at the other fellows’ 
misfortunes. Unless you have played football 
you can not understand Andy’s real feelings. 

The first quarter ended with neither side mak- 
ing a score, and there was a consultation on both 
teams during the little breathing spell. 

“ We’ve got to do more line plunging,” thought 
Andy, and he was right, for Yale began that sort 
of a game when the whistle blew again. The 
wisdom of it was apparent, for at once the ball 
began to go down toward Harvard’s goal, once 


172 Andy at Yale 

Yale got possession of the pigskin after an ex- 
change of kicks. 

“That’s the way! That’s the way!” yelled 
Andy. “Touchdown! Touchdown!” 

This was being yelled all over the Yale stands. 
But it was not to be. After some magnificent 
playing, and bucking that tore the Harvard line 
apart again and again, time for the half was 
called, Yale having the ball on Harvard’s eight- 
yard line. Another play might have taken it 
over. 

But both teams had been forced to call on more 
substitutes, and Harvard lost her best punter. 
Yale suffered, too, in the withdrawal of Michaels, 
a star end. 

The third quarter had not been long under 
way when, following a srimmage, a knot of 
Yale players gathered about a prostrate figure. 

“Who is it? Who is it?” was asked on all 
sides. 

“Brooks — right half!” was the despondent 
answer. “ This cooks our goose ! ” 

“Blair — Blair!” cried the coach. “Get in 
there ! Rip ’em up ! ” 

A mist swam before Andy’s eyes. Some one 
fairly pulled him from the bench, and his sweater 
was ripped off him, one sleeve tearing out. But 
what did it matter — he had a chance to play! 

“ We’ve got to buck their line ! ” the freshman 


A Gridiron Battle 


173 


captain whispered in his ear. “ They’re weak 
there, and we dare not kick too much. Our ends 
can’t get down fast enough. I’m going to send 
you through for all you’re worth.” 

“All right!” gasped Andy. His mouth was 
dry — his throat parched. 

“Steady there! Steady!” warned the coach. 

“ Ready, Yale?” asked the referee. 

“ Yes!” 

Again the whistle blew. Yale had the ball, 
and on the first play Andy was sent bucking the 
line with it. He hit it hard, and felt himself be- 
ing pushed and pulled through. Some one 
seemed in his way, and then a body gave sud- 
denly and limply, and he lurched forward. 

“First down!” he heard some one yell. He 
had gained the required distance. Yale would 
not have to kick. 

Panting, trembling, with a wild, eager rage to 
again get into the fight, Andy waited for the sig- 
nal. A forward pass was to be tried. He was 
glad he was not to buck the line again. 

The pass was not completed, and the ball was 
brought back. Again came a> play — a double 
pass that netted a little. Yale was slowly gain- 
ing. 

But now Harvard took a brace and held for 
downs so that Yale had to kick. Then the crim- 
son took her turn at rushing the ball down the 


174 


Andy at Yale 

field by a series of desperate plunges. Yale’s 
goal was in danger when the saving whistle for 
the third quarter shrilled out. 

“ Fellows, we’ve got to get ’em now or never! ” 
cried the Yale captain, fiercely. “Break your 
necks — but get a touchdown ! ” 

Once more the line-up. Andy’s ears were 
ringing. He could scarcely hear the signals for 
the cheering from the stands. He was called 
upon to smash through the line, and did manage 
to make a small gain. But it was not enough. 
It was the second down. The other back was 
called on, and went through after good interfer- 
ence, making the necessary gain. 

“We’ve got ’em on the run!” exulted Yale. 

The blue team was within striking distance of 
the Harvard goal. The signal came for a kick 
in an attempt to send the ball over the crossbar. 

How it happened no one could say. It was 
one of the fumbles that so often occur in a foot- 
ball game — fumbles that spell victory for one 
team and defeat for another. The Yale full back 
reached out his hands for the pigskin, caught it 
and — dropped it. There was a rush of men to- 
ward him, and some one’s foot kicked the ball. 
It rolled toward Andy. In a flash he had it 
tucked under his arm, and started in a wild dash 
for the Harvard goal line. 

“ Get him! Get that man! ” 



[See page 174] 


Straight at the Harvard back he ran. 




































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A Gridiron Battle 


175 


“ Smear him! ” 

“ Interference ! Interference ! Get after him ! ” 

“It’s Blair! Andy Blair!” 

“Yale’s ball!” 

“ Go on, you beggar! Run! Run! ” 

“ Touchdown ! Touchdown ! ” 

There was a wild riot of yells. With his ears 
ringing as with the jangle of a thousand bells, 
with his lungs nearly bursting, and his eyes 
scarcely seeing, Andy ran on. 

He had ten yards to go — thirty feet — and be- 
tween him and the goal was the Harvard full- 
back — a big youth. Andy heard stamping feet 
behind him. They were those of friends and 
foes, but no friends could help him now. 

Straight at the Harvard back he ran — panting, 
desperate. The Crimson player crouched, wait- 
ing for him.. Andy dodged. He was midw; 
between the side lines. He circled. The Har- 
vard back turned and raced after him, intent on 
driving him out of bounds. That was what Andy 
did not want, but he did want to wind Fs oppo- 
nent. Again Andy circled and dodged. The 
other followed his every move. 

Then Andy came straight at him again, with 
outstretched hand to ward him off. There was a 
clash of bodies, and Andy felt himself encircled 
in a fatal embrace. He hurled himself forward, 
for he could see the goal line beneath his feet. 


176 


Andy at Yale 

Over he went, bearing the Harvard player back- 
ward, and, when they fell with a crash, Andy 
reached out, his arms over his head, and planted 
the ball beyond the goal line. He had made the 
winning touchdown! 


CHAPTER XXII 


ANDY SAYS “ NO ! ” 

Men were thumping each other on the back. 
Some had smashed their hats over other persons’ 
heads. Others had broken their canes from 
much exuberant pounding on the floors of the 
stands. 

Everyone was yelling. On one side there was 
a forest of blue flags waving up and down, side- 
ways, around in circles. Pretty girls were cling- 
ing to their escorts and laughing hysterically. 
The escorts themselves scarcely noticed the said 
pretty girls, for they were gazing down on the 
field — the field about which were scattered eleven 
players in blue, and eleven in dull red, all motion- 
less now, amazed or joyful, according to their 
color, over the feat of Andy Blair. 

On the Harvard stands there was glumness. 
The red banners slumped in nerveless hands. It 
had come as a shock. They had been so sure 
that Yale could not score — what matter if the 
Crimson could not herself — if she could keep the 
mighty Bulldog from biting a hole in her goal 
line? 


1 77 


178 


Andy at Yale 

But it was not to be. Yale had won! There 
was no time to play more. Yale had won — some- 
what by a fluke, it is true, but she had won never- 
theless. Flukes count in football — fumbles 
sometimes make the game — for the other fel- 
low. 

“Oh, you Andy Blair!” 

“ It’s a touchdown! ” 

“Yale wins!” 

“Yale! Yale! Yale!” 

Some one started the “ Boola ” song, and it 
was roared out mightily. Then came the loco- 
motive cheer. 

Slowly Andy got up from behind the Harvard 
goal line. The other player who had tackled 
him, but too late, himself arose. His ‘face was 
white and drawn, not from any physical pain, 
though the fall of himself and Andy had not been 
gentle. It was from the sting of defeat. 

“ Well — well,” he faltered, gulping hard. 
“You got by me, old man! ” 

“ I — I had to,” gasped Andy, for neither had 
his breath yet. 

The other players came crowding up. 

“ It’ll be the dickens of a job to kick a goal 
from there with that wind,” spoke the Yale cap- 
tain. “ But we’ll try it.” 

The whistle ending the game had blown, but 
time was allowed for a try at kicking the ball 


Andy Says “ No ” 


179 


over the crossbar. A hush fell over the assem- 
blage while the ball was taken out and the player 
stretched out to hold it for the kicker. The ref- 
eree stood with upraised hand, to indicate when 
the ball started to rise — the signal that the Har- 
vard players might rush from behind their goal 
in an attempt, seldom successful, to block the 
kick. 

The hand fell. There was a dull boom. The 
ball rose and sailed toward the posts as the Har- 
vard team rushed out. And then fate again fav- 
ored Yale, for a little puff of wind carried the 
spheroid just inside the posts and over the bar. 
The goal had been kicked, adding to Yale’s 
points. She had won. 

Once more the cheers broke forth, and Andy’s 
team-mates surrounded him. They slapped him 
on the back; they called him all sorts of harsh- 
sounding but endearing names; they jostled him 
to and fro. 

“Come on, now!” cried the Yale captain. 
“A cheer for Harvard! No better players in 
the world ! Altogether, boys ! ” 

It was a ringing tribute. 

And then the vanquished, tasting the bitterness 
of defeat, sent forth their acclaim of the lads 
who had bested them. 

Andy found himself in the midst of a mad 
throng, of which his own mates formed but a 


180 


Andy at Yale 

small part, for the field was now overflowing 
with the spectators who had rushed down from 
the stands. 

Some one pushed a way through and grabbed 
Andy by the hand. 

“You did it, old man! You did it! ” a frantic 
voice exclaimed. “I give you credit for it, 
Andy! ” 

Andy found himself confronting Chet. 

“ I told you we’d win,” answered Andy, with a 
laugh. 

“ Yes, but you never said you were going to do 
it yourself,” spoke Chet, ruefully. 

“ Come on, fellows, up with him! ” called the 
quarterback, and before Andy could stop them 
they had lifted him to their shoulders, while be- 
hind the students had formed themselves into a 
queue to do the serpentine dance. 

Cheer after cheer was given, and then the team 
passed into the dressing rooms, and into compara- 
tive quiet. Comparative quiet only, for the play- 
ers were babbling among themselves, living the 
game over again. 

“ And to think that a substitute did it, after 
we’ve thought ourselves the whole show all sea- 
son,” groaned one of the regulars. 

u Oh, well, it was just an accident,” said Andy, 
modestly. 

“A mighty lucky accident for Yale, my 


Andy Says “ No ” 


181 


friend!” exclaimed Holwell. “May there be 
more of such accidents! ” 

Back in the gymnasium, later, after a refresh- 
ing shower, Andy managed to get away from the 
admiring crowd, and finding Chet took him to his 
room. Dunk was there before them. 

“This is a great and noble occasion!” he 
cried, as Andy came in. “ I’m proud of you, my 
boy! Proud! Put her there! ” 

Andy sent his hand into that of his roommate 
with a resounding whack. 

“We’ve got to celebrate!” cried Dunk. 
“The freshman football season is over. You 
break training. tYou’ve got to celebrate! ” 

“ I don’t mind — in a mild sort of way,” laughed 
Andy. 

“ Oh, strictly proper — strictly proper ! ” agreed 
Dunk. 

“ I think I’d better be getting back,” remarked 
Chet. 

“ No, stay and see the fun,” insisted Dunk, 
and Chet agreed to do so. 

There came a rush of feet along the corridor, 
and some one whistled “ See the conquering hero 
comes! ” 

“There are some of the fellows now!” cried 
Dunk. “ Oh! this is great. We must make this 
a noteworthy occasion. We must celebrate prop- 
erly!” he was getting quite excited, and Andy 


182 


Andy at Yale 

began to worry somewhat, for he did not want his 
roommate to celebrate in the wrong way, and 
there was some danger lest he might. 

“ Where is he?” 

“ Lead me to him! ” 

“ Oh, you Andy Blair! ” 

Bob, Ted and Thad came bursting into the 
room, which would not hold many more. 

“Shake!” was the general command, and 
Andy’s arm ached from the pump-handle process. 

“What are you going to do? ” asked Ted. 

“ We’re going to eat! ” cried Dunk. “ This is 
on me — a little supper by ourselves at Burke’s.” 

“ Count us in on that! ” cried some one out in 
the corridor, and Mortimer Gaffington and some 
of his cronies shoved their way into the room. 
“ We want to have a share in the blowout! Con- 
gratulations, old man ! ” and he pumped Andy’s 
arm. 

“Oh, what a night we’ll have!” cried Clar- 
ence Boyle. 

“ The wildest and stormiest ever ! ” added Len 
Scott. “Yale’s night!” 

“ Got to go easy, though! ” cautioned Dunk. 

“ Oh, fudge on you and being easy! ” laughed 
Mortimer. “ This thing has to be done good 
and proper. Come on, let’s go out. We’ll 
smear this old town with a mixture of red and 
blue.” 


Andy Says “No” 


183 


“ That makes purple,” laughed Dunk. 

“No matter!” cried Mortimer. “Come 
on.” 

Andy could not very well refuse and a little 
later he found himself with some of the other 
football players, at a table in Burke’s place. 

The air was blue with smoke — veritable Yale 
air. There was laughter, talk, and the clatter 
of glasses on every side. The evening wore on, 
with the singing of songs, the telling of stories 
and the playing of the game all over again. It 
was such a night as occurs but seldom. 

Andy noticed that Dunk was slipping back into 
his old habits. And, as the celebration went on 
this became more and more noticeable. 

Finally, after a rollicking song, Dunk arose 
from his place near Andy and cried: 

“ Fellows — your eyes on me. I’m going to 
propose a toast to the best one among us.” 

“ Name your man! ” 

Dunk was thus challenged. 

“ I’ll name him in a minute,” he went bn, rais- 
ing his glass on high. “ He’s the best friend I’ve 
got. I give you — Andy Blair ! ” 

“Andy Blair! ” was roared out. 

“ Stand up, Andy! ” 

He arose, a glass of ginger ale in his hand. 

“ We’re goin’ drink your health! ” said Dunk, 

“Thank you! ” said Andy, 


184 ? 


Andy at Yale 

“ Then fill up your glass ! ” 

“ It is filled, Dunk. Can’t you see? ” 

“That’s no stuff to drink a health in. Here, 
waiter, some real ale for Mr. Blair.” 

“No — no,” said Andy quickly. “I don’t 
drink anything stronger than soft stuff — you know 
it, Dunk.” 

For a moment there was a silence in the room. 
Andy felt himself growing pale. 

“You — you won’t drink with me?” asked 
Dunk slowly. 

“ I’d like to — but I can’t — I don’t touch it.” 

“He’s a quitter!” cried Mortimer, angrily, 
from the other side of the table. “A rank quit- 
ter! He won’t drink his own toast!” 

“Won’t you drink with me, Andy?” asked 
Dunk, in sorrowful tones. 

“ In soft stuff — yes.” 

“No, in the real stuff! ” 

“I can’t!” 

“ Then, by Caesar, you are a quitter, and here’s 
where you and I part company!” 

Dunk crashed his glass down on the table in 
front of Andy, and staggered away from his side. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


RECONCILIATION 

Seldom had anything like that occurred be- 
fore, and, for the moment every student in the 
room remained motionless, breathing hard and 
wondering what would come next. Andy, who 
had been pale, now was flushed. It was an in- 
sult; but how could he resent it? 

There seemed no way. If Dunk wanted to 
break off their friendship that was his affair, but 
he might have done it more quietly. Probably 
all in the room, save perhaps Mortimer Gaffing- 
ton, realized this. As for that youth, he smiled 
insultingly at Andy and murmured to Dunk, who 
was now passing to another table: 

“That’s the way to act. Be a sport! ” 

It was clear that if Andy dropped Dunk, Mor- 
timer stood ready to take him up. 

“ Don’t mind him, old chap. Dunk isn’t just 
himself to-night,” murmured Thad ,in Andy’s 
ear. “ He’ll see differently in the morning.” 

“ He’ll have to see a good bit differently to see 
me,” spoke Andy stiffly. “ I can’t pass that up.” 
183 


186 


Andy at Yale 

“ Try,” urged Thad. “ You don’t know what 
it may mean to Dunk.” 

Andy did not reply. Some one started a song 
and under cover of it Andy slipped out, Chet fol- 
lowing. 

“ Too bad, old man,” consoled Andy’s Har- 
vard friend. “ Is he often as bad as that?” 

“ Not of late. It’s getting in with that Gaffing- 
ton crowd that starts him off. I guess he and I 
are done now.” 

“ I suppose so. But it’s too bad.” 

u Yes.” 

Andy walked on in silence for a time, and then 
said: 

“ Come on up to the room and have a chat. 
I won’t see you for some time now. Not till 
Christmas vacation.” 

“ That’s right. But I’ve got to get back to 
Cambridge. I’ll go down and get a train, I 
guess. Come on to the station with me. The 
walk will do you good.” 

The two chums strolled through the lighted 
streets, which were much more lively than usual 
on account of the celebration of the football vic- 
tory. But Andy and Chet paid little heed to 
the bustle and confusion about them. 

When Andy got back to his room, after bid- 
ding Chet good-bye, Dunk had not come in. 
Andy lay awake some time waiting for him, won- 


Reconciliation 


187 


dering what he would say when he did come in. 
But finally he dozed off, and awaking in the morn- 
ing, from fitful slumbers, he saw the other bed 
empty. Dunk had not come home. 

“ Well, if he’s going to quit me I guess it can’t 
be helped,” remarked Andy. “ And I guess I’d 
better give up this room, and let him get some one 
else in. It wouldn’t be pleasant for me to stay 
here if he pulled out. I’d remember too much. 
Yes, I’ll look for another room.” 

He went to chapel, feeling very little in the 
mood for it, but somehow the peaceful calm of 
the Sunday service eased his troubled mind. He 
looked about for Dunk, but did not see him. 
Perhaps it was just as well. 

After chapel Andy went back to his room, and 
debated with himself what was best to be done. 
He was in the midst of this self-communion when 
there was a knock on the door, and to Andy’s call 
of “ Shove in! ” there followed the shock of curly 
hair that belonged to nobody but Ikey Stein. 

“ Oh, dear! ” groaned Andy in spirit. “ That 
bargainer, at this, of all times.” 

“ Hello, Andy,” greeted Ikey. “Are you 
busy? ” 

“ Too busy to buy neckties.” 

“Forget it! Do you think I’d come to you 
now on such a business!” 

There was a new side to the character of Ikey 


188 


Andy at Yale 

— a side Andy had never before seen. There 
was a quiet air of authority about him, a gentle 
air that contrasted strangely with his usual care- 
free and easy manners that he assumed when he 
wanted to sell his goods. 

“ Sit down,” invited Andy, shoving a pile of 
books and papers off a chair. 

“ Thanks. Nice day, isn’t it? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Andy slowly, wondering 
what was the object of the call. 

“ Nice day for a walk.” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Ever go for a walk? ” 

“ Sure. Lots of times.” 

“ Going to-day? ” 

“ I don’t know. Are you? ” 

“ Oh, I didn’t mean with me. I’ve got a date, 
anyhow. Say, look here, Blair, if you don’t mind 
me getting personal. If you were to take a walk 
out toward East Rock Park you might meet a 
friend of yours.” 

“ A friend?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You mean ” 

“Now look here!” exclaimed Ikey, and his 
manner was serious. “You may order me out 
of your room, and all that, but I’m going to speak 
what’s in my mind. I want you to make up with 
Dunk!” 


Reconciliation 189 

“ Make up with him — after what he did to 
me ! ” 

“ That’s all right — I know. But I’m sure 
he’ll meet you more than half-way.” 

“ Well, he’ll have to.” 

“Now, don’t take that view of it,” urged the 
kindly Jew. “ Say, let me tell you something, 
will you? ” 

“ Fire away,” and Andy walked over and stood 
looking out of the window across the campus. 

“ It’s only a little story,” went on Ikey, “ and 
not much of a one at that. When I was in prep 
school I had a friend — a very dear friend. 

“ He was what you call a sport, too, in a way, 
and how he ever took up with me I never could 
understand. I hadn’t any money — I had to work 
like the dickens to get along. All my people are 
dead, and I was then, as I am now, practically 
alone in the world. But this fellow, who came 
of a good family, took me up, and we formed a 
real friendship. 

“ I think I did him good in a way, and I know 
he did me, for I used to have bitter feelings 
against the rich and he did a lot to show me that 
I was wrong. This friend went in a fast set and 
one day I spoke to him about it. I said he was 
throwing away his talents. 

“ Well, he was touchy — he’d been out late the 
night before — and he resented what I said. We 


190 


Andy at Yale 

had a quarrel — our first one — and he went out 
saying he never wanted to see me again. I had 
a chance to make up with him later, but I was too 
proud. So was he, I guess. Anyhow, when I 
put my pride in my pocket and went after him, 
a little later, it was too late.” 

“Too late — how? ” asked Andy, for Ikey had 
come to a stop and there was a break in his voice. 

“He went out in an auto with his fast crowd; 
there was an upset, and my friend was killed.” 

Andy turned sharply. There were tears in 
the other’s eyes, and his face was twitching. 

“I — I always felt,” said Ikey, softly, “that 
perhaps if I hadn’t been so proud and hard that 
— maybe — maybe he’d be alive to-day.” 

There was silence in the room, broken only by 
the monotonous ticking of the dock. 

“ Thanks,” said Andy, softly, after a pause. 
“ I — I guess I understand what you mean, Stein.” 
He held out his hand, which was warmly clasped. 

“ Then you will go for a walk — maybe? ” asked 
Ikey, eagerly. 

“ I — I think I will,” spoke Andy, softly. “ I 
don’t understand it; but I’ll go.” 

“ You — you’ll find him there,” went on Ikey. 
“ I sent him out to — meet you ! ” 

And before Andy could say anything more the 
peacemaker had left the apartment. 

For several minutes Andy stood still. He 


Reconciliation 


191 


looked about the room — a room suggestive in 
many ways of the presence and character of Dunk. 
There was even on the mantel a fragment of the 
Japanese vase he had broken that time. 

“ I’ll go to him,” spoke Andy, softly. 

He went out on the campus, not heeding many 
calls from friends to join them. When they 
noted his manner* they, wisely, did not press the 
matter. Perhaps they guessed. Andy walked 
out Whitney Avenue to East Rock Road and 
turned into the park. 

“I wonder where I’ll find him?” he mused, 
as he gazed around. 

“ Queer that Ikey should put up a game like 
this.” 

Walking on a little way, Andy saw a solitary 
figure under a tree. He knew who it was. The 
other saw him coming, but did not stir. 

Presently they were within speaking distance. 
Andy paused a moment and then, holding out 
his hand, said softly: 

“Dunk!” 

The figure looked up, and a little smile crept 
over the moody face. 

“Andy!” cried Dunk, stepping forward. 

The next moment their hands had met in a 
clasp such as they never had felt before. They 
looked into each other’s eyes, and there was much 
meaning in the glance. 


192 


Andy at Yale 

“Andy — Andy — can you — forgive me?” 

“Of course, Dunk; I understand.” 

“All right, old man. That is the last time. 
Never again! Never again!” 

And Dunk meant it. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


link's VISIT 

Busy days followed. After, the football game, 
the quarrel of Dunk and Andy, and their recon- 
ciliation, brought about so effectively by Ikey 
Stein, little of moment happened except the 
varsity football games, which Andy followed with 
devoted interest, hoping that by the next term he 
would be chosen for a place on the team. 

The students settled down to hard work, with 
the closing of the outdoor sporting season, and 
there were days of hard study. Yale is no place 
for weak students, and Andy soon found that he 
must “toe the mark” in more senses than one. 
He had to give his days and some of his nights 
to “ grinding.” 

For some time Andy did not understand how 
Ikey had brought about the meeting of Dunk and 
himself — at least, he did not know how the peace- 
maker had induced Dunk to go to the park. But 
one day the latter explained. 

Following the dramatic scene in Burke’s, Dunk 
had gone out. Not wishing to face Andy he had 
193 


194 


Andy at Yale 

stayed at a hotel all night. In the morning, while 
he was remorseful and nearly ill, Ikey, the faith- 
ful, had sought him out, having in some way 
heard of the quarrel. Ikey was not given to fre- 
quenting Burke’s, but he had his own way of fer- 
reting out news. 

To Dunk he had gone, then, and had told much 
the same story he had related to Andy, giving it 
a different twist. And he had so worked on 
Dunk’s feelings, picturing how terribly Andy must 
feel, that finally Dunk had consented to go to the 
park. 

“Well, I’m glad I did, old man! ” said Dunk, 
clapping Andy on the back. 

“ And so am I. I’m only wondering whether 
Ikey faked that ‘ sob story ’ or not.” 

“What of it? It certainly did the business, 
all right.” 

“ It sure did.” 

Dunk and Andy were better friends than ever, 
and, to the relief of Andy, Mortimer and his 
crowd ceased coming to the room in Wright Hall, 
and taking Dunk off with them. 

Occasionally Andy’s chum would go off with a 
rather “ sporty ” crowd, and sometimes .Andy 
went also. But Dunk held himself well in hand, 
for which Andy was very glad. 

“It’s all your doing, old man!” said Dunk, 
gratefully. 


Link’s Visit 


195 


“Nonsense!” exclaimed Andy, but his heart 
glowed nevertheless. 

The quiet and rather calm atmosphere of col- 
lege life was rudely broken when one night, fol- 
lowing a mild celebration over the victory of the 
basketball team, several robberies were discov- 
ered. 

A number of rooms in the college buildings had 
been entered, and various articles of jewelry and 
some money had been taken. Freshmen were 
mainly the ones who sustained the losses, though 
no class was exempt. 

“ This is getting serious ! ” exclaimed Dunk, 
as he and Andy talked the matter over. “We’d 
better get a new lock put on our door.” 

“ I’m willing, though I haven’t got much that 
would tempt anyone.” 

“ I haven’t either, only this,” and he pulled out 
a handsome gold watch. “ I’m so blamed care- 
less about it that most of the time I forget to 
carry it.” 

“ Well, let’s put on a lock, then. The one we 
have doesn’t catch half the time.” 

“ No, it’s been busted too many times by the 
raiding sophs. I’ll buy another first time I’m 
down town.” 

But the matter slipped Dunk’s mind, and Andy 
did not again think of it. 

The thefts created no little excitement, and it 


196 


Andy at Yale 

was said that a private detective agency had been 
engaged by the faculty. Of the truth of this 
no one could vouch. 

Another warning was given by the Dean, and 
students were urged to see to the fastening of 
their doors, not only for their own protection, 
but in order not to put temptation in the way of 
servants. 

Andy came in from a late lecture one afternoon, 
to find open the door of his room he had left 
locked, as he thought. At first he supposed 
Dunk was within, but entering the apartment he 
saw Link Bardon there. The helper arose as 
Andy came in and said, rather embarrassedly : 

“ Mr. Blair, I’m in trouble.” 

“Trouble!” exclaimed Andy. “What kind?” 

“Well, I need money. You see I’ve got a 
sick sister and the other day she wrote to me, 
saying she’d have to have some money to buy 
an expensive medicine. I sent it to her. She 
said her husband would get his pay this week, 
and she’d send it back to me. Now she writes 
that he is sick, and can’t earn anything, so she 
can’t pay me back. 

“ I was counting on that money, for my wages 
aren’t due for several days, and I have to pay 
my board. I don’t like to ask my landlady to 
wait, and I thought maybe ” 

“ Of course I’ll let you have some ! ” exclaimed 


Link’s Visit 


197 


Andy quickly. “How much do you need?” 

“ Oh, about seven dollars.” 

“ Better have ten. You can pay me back when 
you like,” said Andy as he extended the bill. 

“ I don’t know how to thank you ! ” exclaimed 
Link, gratefully. 

“ Then don’t try,” advised Andy, with a smile. 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE MISSING WATCH 

Andy was “boning” on his German, with 
which he had had considerable difficulty. The 
dusk was settling down that early December day, 
and he was thinking of lighting a lamp to continue 
work on his books, when he heard a familiar step, 
and a whistle down the corridor. Then a voice 
broke into a college refrain. 

“ Dunk! ” murmured Andy. “ It sounds good 
to hear him, and to know that there’s not much 
more danger of our getting on the outs. He 
sure was worth saving — that is, what little I did 
toward it. He did the most himself, I fancy.” 

“Hello, old top, hard at it?” greeted Dunk, 
as he entered. 

“Have to be,” replied Andy. “You’ve no 
idea how tough this German is.” 

“ Oh, haven’t I? Didn’t I flunk in it the other 
day? And on something I ought to have known 
as well as I do my first reader lesson? It’s no 
cinch — this being at Yale. Wonder if I’ve got 
time to slip down town before we feed our 
198 


The Missing Watch 199 

faces? ” and he began fumbling for his watch. 

“What’s on?” asked Andy, rather idly. 

Then, as he saw Dunk giving his shoes a hasty 
rub, and delving among a confused mass of ties 
in a drawer, Andy added: 

“The witness need not answer. It’s a skirt.” 

“A which?” asked Dunk in pretended ignor- 
ance. 

“A lady. I didn’t know you knew any here, 
Dunk! ” 

“ Huh ! Think you’ve got the preserves all 
to yourself, eh? Well, I’ll show you that you 
haven’t.” 

“Who is she?” asked Andy. 

“ Friend of a friend of mine. I think I’ll take 
a chance and go down just for a little while. 
Save some grub for me. I won’t be long. May 
make a date for to-night. Want to fill in? ” 

“ If there’s room.” 

“ Sure, we’ll make room, and I’ll get you a 
girl. Some of us are going to the Hyperion. 
Nice little play there,” and Dunk went on “ doll- 
ing up,” until he was at least partly satisfied with 
himself. 

Dunk was about to leave when a messenger 
came to announce that he was wanted on the 
’phone in the public booth in Dwight Hall, where 
the Y. M. C. A. of Yale has headquarters. 

“I guess that’s her now,” said Dunk, as he 


200 


Andy at Yale 

hurried out. “ I told her to call up,” and he 
rushed down the corridor. 

Andy heard him call back: 

“ I say, old man, look out for my watch, will 
you? I must have left it somewhere around 
there.” 

“ The old fusser,” murmured Andy, as he rose 
from the easy chair. “ When Dunk goes in for 
anything he forgets everything else. He’d leave 
his head if it wasn’t fastened on, or if I didn’t 
remind him of it,” and Andy felt quite a righteous 
glow as he began to look about for the valuable 
timepiece belonging to his roommate. 

“ He must have it on him,” went on Andy, as a 
hasty search about the room did not reveal it. 
“ Probably he’s stuck it in his trousers’ pocket 
with his keys and loose change. He oughtn’t 
to have a good watch the way he uses it. Well, 
it isn’t here — that’s sure.” 

Andy, a little later, turned on the electric light, 
but no glow followed the snapping of the button. 

“ Current off again — or else it’s burned out,” 
he murmured. A look in the hall outside showed 
him other lamps gleaming and he knew that his 
own light must be at fault. 

“ Guess I’ll go get another bulb,” he remarked. 

When he returned with the new one he was 
aware that some one was in the darkened room. 

“That you, Dunk?” he asked. 


The Missing Watch 201 

“ No,” answered a voice he recognized as that 
of Ikey Stein. “ I saw you going down the hall 
and guessed what you were after, so I took the 
liberty of coming in and waiting. I’ve got some 
real bargains.” 

“Nothing doing, Ikey,” laughed Andy, as he 
screwed the lamp in the socket and lighted up the 
room. “ Got all the ties I need for my whole 
course in Yale.” 

u It isn’t ties,” said Ikey, and his voice was so 
serious that Andy wondered at it. “ It’s hand- 
kerchiefs,” went on the student-salesman. “ Andy, 
I’m in bad. I bought a big stock of these things, 
and I’ve got to sell ’em to get my money out of 
’em. I thought I would have plenty of time, but 
I owe a bill that’s due now, and the man wants his 
money. So I’ve got to sell these handkerchiefs 
quicker than I expected. I need the cash, so 
I’ll let ’em go for just what I paid for ’em. I 
don’t care if I don’t make a cent.” 

“ Let’s see ’em,” suggested Andy. The talk 
sounded familiar. It was “ bargain ” patter, but 
an inspection of the handkerchiefs showed Andy 
that they were worth what was asked for them. 
And, as it happened, he was in need of some. He 
bought two dozen, and suggested to Ikey several 
other students in Wright Hall on whom he might 
call. 

“ Thanks,” said the salesman, as he departed 


202 


Andy at Yale 

after a lengthy visit in Andy’s room. “ 1 won’t 
forget what you’ve done for me, Blair. I’m hav- 
ing a hard time, and some people try to make it 
all the harder. They think, because I’m a Jew, 
that I have no feelings — that I like to be laughed 
at, and made to think that all I care about is 
money. Wait! Some day I’ll show ’em!” and 
his black eyes flashed. 

Andy felt really sorry for him. Certainly 
Ikey did not work his way through college on 
any easy path. 

“ I’m only too glad to do this for you,” said the 
purchaser. He could not forget what a service 
Ikey had rendered to him and Dunk, bringing 
them together when they were on the verge of 
taking paths that might never converge. 

“ Well, I’ll see if I can’t find some other easy 
mark like you,” laughed Ikey as he went down the 
hall. 

Andy was about to go to the “ eating joint ” 
alone when Dunk came in whistling gaily. 

“ Ah, ha ! Methinks thou hast had a pleasant 
meeting! ” Andy “ spouted.” 

“ Right — Oh ! ” exclaimed his roommate. 
“ It’s all right for to-night, too. I’ve got a peach 
for you.” 

“ Light or dark? ” asked Andy, critically. 

“Dark! Say, but you’re getting mighty par- 
ticular, though, for a young fellow.” 


The Missing Watch 203 

“ The same to you. Where do we meet ’em, 
and where do we go? ” 

“ I’ve got it all fixed. Hyperion. Come on, 
let’s get through grub, I want to dress.” 

He began searching hurriedly through his 
pockets, a puzzled look coming over his face. 

“ Where in the world ” he began. “ Oh, 

I know, I left it here.” 

“What?” 

“ My watch. I called to you about it when I 
went out to the telephone, and ” 

“ It isn’t here. I looked.” 

“What!” 

“ Fact! Unless you stuck it in something.” 

“ No, I left it right on my dresser, on a pile 
of clean handkerchiefs — hello, where’d these come 
from?” and he looked at the ones Andy had 
bought of Ikey. 

“ Oh, another bargain from our mutual friend,” 
and Andy mentioned the price. 

“ That is a bargain, all right. I must get 
some. But look here, where’s my watch?” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know. Did you leave it 
here? ” 

“ I certainly did. I remember now, I put it on 
the pile of handkerchiefs just before I went to last 
lecture. Then I came in here, to go out to keep 
my date, and I didn’t have it. I was going to 
slip it in my pocket when I was called to the 


204 


Andy at Yale 

’phone. Look here, here’s the impression of it 
in the handkerchiefs,” and Dunk pointed to a 
round depression in the pile of soft linen squares. 
It was just the shape of a watch. 

“ It was there,” said Dunk slowly, looking at 
Andy. 

“ And now it’s gone,” finished his roommate. 
Then he remembered several things, and his start 
of surprise made Dunk look at his chum in a 
strange way. 

“ What’s the matter?” asked Dunk. 

“ I’ll tell you in a minute,” said Andy. “ I 
want to think a bit.” 


CHAPTER XXVI 


THE GIRLS 

“Well?” asked Dunk, after a pause, during 
which Andy had sat staring at the fireplace. A 
blaze had been kindled there, but it had died 
down, and now there was only a mere flicker. 

“ Are you sure you left your watch on that 
pile of handkerchiefs?” asked Andy, slowly. 

“ Dead sure. I remember it because I thought 
at the time that I was a chump to treat that ticker 
the way I did, and I made up my mind I’d get a 
good chain for it and have my watch pocket lined 
with chamois leather. That’s what made me 
think of it — the softness of the handkerchiefs. 
Why, Andy, you can see the imprint of it plainly 
enough.” 

“Yes, I guess you’re right.” 

“ And it’s gone.” 

“ Right again.” 

“ Were you in the room all the time I was 
out?” 

“ Most all the while. I went to get a new elec- 
tric lamp for the one that had burned out.” 

205 


206 


Andy at Yale 

“ Was anyone here besides you?’’ 

Andy hesitated. Then he answered: 

u Yes, two persons.” 

“Who?” 

“ Ikey Stein ” 

“ That ” 

Andy held up a warning hand. 

“ Don’t call any names,” he advised. “ Ikey 
did you and me a good service. We mustn’t for- 
get that.” 

“ All right, I won’t. Who else was in here? ” 

“ Link Bardon.” 

“ Who’s he?” 

“ That farmer lad I was telling you about — 
the one we fellows saved from a beating.” 

“ Oh, yes. I remember.” 

“ He’s working here now. He came in to bor- 
row some money. I found him here when I came 
back — our door was open.” 

“By Jove! That lock! I meant to get it fixed. 
Well, I can see what happened. The quadrangle 
mystery deepens, and I’m elected. The beggar 
got my watch ! ” Dunk started out. 

“ Where are you going? ” asked Andy. 

“ To telephone for a locksmith. I’m going 
to have our door fixed. Don’t laugh — the old 
saying — ‘ lock the stable after the horse is stolen.’ 
I know it.” 

“ Wait a minute,” suggested Andy. “ While 


The Girls 207 

you’re at it hadn’t you better give notice of the 
robbery? ” 

“I suppose so. But what good will it do? 
None of the fellows have gotten back anything 
that’s been taken. But I sure am sorry to lose 
that watch.” 

“ So am I,” spoke Andy. “ Look here, Dunk, 
there are two persons who might have taken it — 
no, three.” 

“ How three?” 

“ Counting me.” 

“ Oh, piffle. But I suppose if I made a row 
it would look bad for Ikey and your friend Link.” 

“ It sure would. I think maybe you’d better 
not make a row.” 

“ You mean sit down and let ’em walk off with 
my watch without saying a word? ” 

“ Oh, no. Report the loss, of course. But 
don’t mention any names.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t like to mention Ikey — for 
the honor of Yale, and all that, you know.” 

“ I agree with you. And, for certain reasons, 
I wouldn’t like you to mention Link. I don’t 
know about him, but I believe he’s as honest as 
can be. Of course he was in need of money, and 
if your watch lay in plain sight there’d be a big 
temptation. But I’d hate to think it.” 

“ So would I, after what you’ve told me about 
him. I won’t think it, until, at least, we get 


208 


Andy at Yale 

more information. It was my fault for leaving it 
around that way. It’s too bad! Dad will sure 
be sorry to hear it’s gone. I’m going to keep 
mum about it — maybe it will turn up.” 

“ I hope so,” returned Andy. “ I hardly be- 
lieve Link would take it, yet you never can tell.” 

“ Anyhow, we’ll get a new lock put on, and I’ll 
report my watch,” said Dunk. “ Then we’ll for- 
get all about it and have some fun. Come on, 
I’m hungry. It isn’t so much the money value of 
the thing, as the associations. Hang it all — what 
a queer world this is. Oh, but you should see the 
girls, Andy! ” 

“ I’m counting on it! ” 

When they came back, after a hasty session at 
the “ eating joint,” there was a note for each of 
them tucked under the door, which they had man- 
aged to lock pending the attaching of the new 
mechanism. 

“ From Gaffington,” announced Dunk, ripping 
his open. “ He’s giving a blow-out to-night. 
Wants me to come.” 

“ Same here,” announced Andy, reading his, 
and then glancing anxiously at his roommate. 

“ I’m not going,” said Dunk,, wadding up the 
missive and tossing it into the waste-paper basket. 

“ Neither am I,” said Andy, doing the same. 

They began to “ doll up,” which, being inter- 
preted, means to attire oneself in one’s best rai- 


The Girls 


209 


ment, including the newest tie, the stiffest collar 
and the most uncomfortable shirt, to say nothing 
of patent leather shoes a size too small. 

“Whew!” panted Andy, as he adjusted his 
scarf for the fourth or fifth time, “ these bargains 
of Ikey’s aren’t what they’re cracked up to be.” 

“ I should say not. I don’t believe they’re real 
silk.” 

“ Maybe not. They say the Japs can make 
something that looks like it, but which isn’t any 
more silk than a shoestring.” 

“ I believe you. Maybe Ikey has been dab- 
bling in some more of Hashmi’s stuff.” 

“ I wouldn’t wonder. Say, it’s a queer way 
for a fellow to get through college, isn’t it?” 

“ It sure is. Yet he’s a decent sort of chap. 
Only for that affair of the vases.” 

“ Oh, he made restitution in that case.” 

They went on dressing, with hurried glances at 
the clock now and then to make sure they would 
not be late. From out in the raised court came a 
hail: 

“ Oh, you, Dunk! ” 

“ Stick out your noddle, Blair! ” 

“ Come on down ! ” 

“ That’s Thad and his crowd,” announced 
Andy. 

“ Let ’em holler,” advised Dunk. “ I’m not 
going with them.” 


210 


Andy at Yale 

“Oh, you Dunk! ” 

“ Go on away! ” called Dunk, shouting out of 
the window. 

“ Oh, for the love of mush! ” 

“Look at him!” 

“ Girls, all right!” 

“Come on up and rough-house ’em!” 

These cries greeted the appearance out of the 
window of the upper part of Dunk’s body, attired 
in a gaudy waistcoat. 

“Is that door locked, Andy?” gasped Dunk, 
hurriedly pulling in his head. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Slip the bolt then. They’ll make no end of 
a row if they get in! ” 

Andy slipped it, and only in time, for there 
came a rush of bodies against the portal, and in- 
sistent demands from Thad and his crowd to be 
admitted. Failing in that they besought Andy 
and Dunk to come out. 

“Nothing doing! We’ve got dates!” an- 
nounced Andy, and this was accepted as final. 

They were just about to leave, quiet having 
been restored, when there came a knock. 

“Who is it?” asked Dunk, suspiciously. 

“ Gaffington,” was the unexpected answer. 
“ Are you fellows coming to my blow-out.” 

Dunk looked at Andy and paused. Following 
the affair in Burke’s, where Gaffington had incited 


The Girls 


211 


Dunk against Andy, the rich youth from Andy’s 
town had had little to say to him. He seemed 
to take it for granted that his condition that 
night was enough of an apology without any 
other, and treated Andy exactly as though noth- 
ing had occurred. 

“Well?” asked Gaffington, impatiently. 

“ Sorry, old man,” said Dunk, “ but we both 
have previous engagements.” 

“Oh, indeed!” sneered Mortimer, and they 
could hear him muttering to himself as he walked 
away. 

Then the two chums sallied forth. On the 
way Dunk reported the loss of his watch, to the 
discomfiture of the Dean, who seemed much dis- 
turbed by the successive robberies. 

“ Something must be done ! ” he exclaimed, 
pacing up and down the room. 

Dunk also left word at the college mainte- 
nance office about the door that would not lock, 
and got the promise that it would be seen to. 

“And now for the girls!” exclaimed Andy. 
“Do I know them?” 

“ No, but you soon will.” 

Andy was much pleased with the two young 
ladies to whom Dunk introduced him later. It 
appeared that one was a distant relative of 
Dunk’s mother, and the two were visiting friends 
in New Haven. Dunk’s “ cousin,” as he called 


212 


Andy at Yale 

her, had sent him a card, asking him to call, 
and he had made arrangements to bring Andy 
and spend the evening at the theatre. 

Thither they went, happy and laughing, and 
to the no small envy of a number of college lads, 
the said lads making unmistakable signals to 
Dunk and Andy, between the acts, that they 
wanted to be introduced later. 

But Andy and Dunk ignored their chums. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


JEALOUSIES 

“Well, how did you like ’em?” demanded 
Dunk. 

“ Do you mean both — or one?” asked Andy. 

“ Huh, you ought to know what I mean? ” 

“ Or — who , I suppose,” and Andy smiled. 

He and his chum had come back to their 
room after taking home the girls with whom 
they had spent the evening at the theatre. There 
had followed a little supper, and the affair ended 
most enjoyably. That is, it seemed to, but there 
was an under-note of irritation in Dunk’s voice 
and he regarded Andy with rather a strange 
look as they sat in thej room preparatory to 
going to bed. 

“ What did you and she find to talk about so 
much?” asked Dunk, suspiciously. “I brought 
Kittie Martin around for you.” 

“ So I imagined.” 

“Yet nearly all the time you kept talking to 
Alice Jordan. Didn’t you like Miss Martin?” 

“ Sure. She’s a fine girl. But Miss Jordan 
213 


214 


Andy at Yale 

and I found we knew the same people back home, 
where I come from, and naturally she wanted to 
hear about them.” 

“Huh! Well, the next time I get you a girl 
I’ll make sure the one I bring along doesn’t come 
from the same part of the country you do.” 

“Why?” asked Andy, innocently enough. 

“Why? Good land, man! Do you think I 
want the girl I pick out monopolized by you?” 

“ I didn’t monopolize her.” 

“ It was the next thing to it.” 

“ Look here, Dunk, you’re not mad, are 
you? ” 

“No, you old pickle; but I’m the next thing 
to it.” 

“Why, I couldn’t help it, Dunk. She talked 
to me.” 

“ Bah! The same old story that Adam rung 
the changes on when Eve handed him the apple. 
Oh, forget it ! I suppose I oughtn’t to have men- 
tioned it, but when I was all primed for a nice 
cozy talk to have you butting in every now and 
then with something about the girls and boys 
back in Oshkosh ” 

“ It was Dunmore,” interrupted Andy. 

“Well, Dunmore then. It’s the same thing. 
I’ll do — more to you if you do it again.” 

“ I tell you she kept asking me questions, and 
what could I do but answer,” replied Andy. 


Jealousies 


215 


“You might have changed the subject. Kittie 
didn’t like it for a cent.” 

“She didn’t?” 

“No. I saw her looking at you and Alice in 
a queer way several times.” 

“ She did?” 

“ She did. So did Katy! ” mocked Dunk, and 
his voice was rather snappish. 

“ Well, I didn’t intend anything,” said Andy. 
“ Gee, but when I try to do the polite thing I 
get in Dutch, as the saying is. I guess I wasn’t 
cut out for a lady’s man.” 

“ Oh, you’re all right,” Dunk assured his 
chum, “ only you want to hunt on your own 
grounds. Keep off my preserves.” 

“All right, I will after this. Just give me 
the high sign when you see m ( e transgressing 
again.” 

“ There isn’t likely to be any 4 again,’ Andy. 
They’re going home tomorrow.” 

“ I’ve got her address, anyhow,” laughed 
Andy. 

“Whose?” asked Dunk, suspiciously. 

“ Kittie Martin’s. She’s the one you picked 
out for me; isn’t she?” 

“Yes, and I wish you’d stick to her!” and 
with this Dunk tumbled into bed and did not 
talk further. Andy put out the light with a 
thoughtful air, and did not try to carry on the 


216 


Andy at Yale 

conversation. It was as near to a quarrel as the 
room-mates had come since the affair of Burke’s. 

But matters were smoothed over, at least for 
a time, when, next day, came notes from the 
girls saying they had decided to prolong their 
visit in New Haven. 

“Good!” cried Dunk. “We can take the'm 
out some more.” 

And this time Andy was careful not to pay too 
much attention to Miss Alice Jordan, though, 
truth to tell, he liked her better than he did 
Kittie Martin. And it is betraying no secret to 
confess that Alice seemed to like Andy very 
much. 

The boys hired a carriage and took the girls 
for a drive one day, going to the beautiful hill 
country west of the new Yale Field. 

As they were going slowly along they met a 
taxicab coming in the opposite direction. When 
it drew near Andy was somewhat surprised to 
find it contained Miss Mazie Fuller, the actress. 
She laughed and bowed, waving her hand to 
Andy. 

“ Who was that? ” asked Dunk, who had been 
too busy talking to Alice to notice the occupant 
of the taxi. 

“ Miss Fuller,” answered Andy. 

“ Oh, your little actress. Yes.” 

Andy blushed and Miss Martin, who sat be- 


Jealousies 217 

side the youth, rather drew away, while Alice 
gave him a queer, quick look. 

“An actress?” murmured Miss Martin. 
“ She looks young — a mere girl.” 

“ That’s all she is,” said Andy, eagerly. Too 
eagerly, in fact. He rather overdid it. 

“Tell ’em how you saved her life,” suggested 
Dunk, laughing. 

“ Forget it,” returned Andy, with another 
blush. “ I’m tired of being a hero.” 

“ Oh, I heard about that,” said Miss Jordan. 
“ There was something in the papers about it. 
She’s real pretty, isn’t she?” and again she 
looked queerly at Andy. 

“ Oh, yes,” he admitted, taking warning now. 
“Say, tell me, shall we go over that cross 
road?” 

“To change the subject,” observed Miss Mar- 
tin, with a little laugh, and a sidewise glance at 
Andy. 

He was beginning to find that jealousy was 
not alone confined to Dunk. 

The ride came to an end at last and Andy 
wondered just how he stood with Dunk and the 
girls. 

“Hang it all!” he mused, “I seem to get 
in Dutch all along the line.” 

The girls left New Haven, having been given 
a little farewell supper by Dunk and Andy. The 


218 


Andy at Yale 

two boys had hard work to resist the many self- 
invited guests among their chums. 

Several days later there came some letters to 
Dunk and Andy. One, to the latter, was from 
Miss Fuller, the actress, telling Andy that she 
expected to be in New Haven again, and asking 
Andy to call on her. 

“You are going it! ” said Dunk, when Andy 
told of this missive, and also mentioned receiv- 
ing one from Miss Martin, thanking him for 
.'the entertainment he and Dunk had given to 
her and her chum. “You sure are going it, 
Andy! Two strings to your bow, all right.” 

“ Never you mind me,” retorted Andy. “ I’m 
not on your side of the fence this time.” 

There was the sound of running feet in the 
corridor, and someone rushed past the room, the 
door of which was open. 

“Did you see anyone pass?” cried Frank 
Carr, who roomed a few apartments away from 
Andy and Dunk. “ Did someone run past here 
just now? ” 

“ We didn’t see nor hear anyone,” answered 
Dunk. “Why?” 

“ Because just as I was coming upstairs I saw 
someone run out of my room. I thought of the 
quadrangle robberies at once, and took a look 
in. One of my books, and the silver vase I won 
in the tennis match, were gone. The thief came 
down this way! ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


THE BOOK 

Andy and Dunk, who had jumped up and 
come to the door of their room on hearing 
Frank’s explanation, stood looking at him for a 
second, rather startled by his news. Then Andy, 
realizing that this might be a chance to discover 
who had been carrying on the mysterious quad- 
rangle robberies, exclaimed: 

“Come on down this way! The hall ends 
just around the corner and there’s no way out. 
It’s a blind alley, and if the fellow went down 
here we sure have him! ” 

“Good for you!” cried Dunk. “Wait until 
we get something to tackle him with in case he 
fights.” 

“That’s so,” said Andy. “Here, I’ll take our 
poker, and you can have the fire tongs, Dunk.” 

From a brass stand near the fireplace Andy 
caught up the articles he mentioned. 

“Where’s something for me?” asked Frank. 

“ Here, take the shovel,” spoke Dunk passing 
it over. “ Say, what sort of a fellow was it you 
saw run out of your room?” 

219 


220 Andy at Yale 

“ I didn’t have much chance to notice, he went 
so like a flash.” 

“ Was it — er — one of our fellows — I mean a 
college man — did he look like that?” asked 
Andy. He was conscious of the fact that he had 
rather stammered over this. Truth to tell, he 
feared lest Link might have yielded to tempta- 
tion. Since the episode of Dunk’s watch Andy 
had been doing some hard thinking. 

“ Well, the fellow did look like a college 
chap,” admitted Frank, “ but of course it couldn’t 
be. No Yale man would be guilty of a thing like 
that.” 

“Of course not!” agreed Dunk. “But say, 
if we’re going to make a capture we’d better get 
busy. Are you sure there’s no way out from this 
corridor, Andy? ” 

“ Sure not. It ends blank. The (fellow is 
surely trapped.” 

They hurried out into the corridor, and 
started down it, armed with the fire irons. 
Though they had talked rather loudly, and were 
under considerable excitement, no attention had 
been attracted to them. Most of the rooms on 
that floor were not occupied just then, and if 
there were students in the others they did not 
come out to see what was taking place. 

“ Say, it would be great if we could capture 
the thief! ” said Dunk. 


The Book 221 

“Yes, and end the quadrangle mystery,” 
added Andy. 

“ I don’t care so much about ending the mys- 
tery as I do about getting back my tennis cup and 
the book,” spoke Frank. 

“What sort of a book was it?” Andy in- 
quired. 

“A reference work on inorganic chemistry,” 
answered Frank. “ Cost me ten plunks, too. I 
can’t afford to lose it for I need it in my work.” 

“ Some book! ” murmured Andy, as the three 
hastened on. 

They tried door after door as they passed, but 
most of them were locked. One or two opened 
to disclose students dressing or shaving, and to 
the rather indignant inquiries as to what was 
wanted, Dunk would exclaim hastily: 

“ Oh, we are looking for a fellow — that’s 
all.” 

“ Hazing? ” sometimes would be inquired. 

“Sort of,” Dunk would answer. “No use 
telling ’em what it is until we’ve got something 
to show,” he added to his companions. They 
agreed with him. 

They had now reached the turn of the cor- 
ridor where a short passage, making an L, 
branched off. So far they had seen no trace of 
the thief. 

“ There’s a big closet, or storeroom, at the 


222 


Andy at Yale 

end,” explained Andy. “ The fellow may be 
hiding in there.” 

An examination of the few rooms remaining 
on this short turn of the passage did not disclose 
the youth they sought. All of the doors were 
locked. 

“ He may be hiding in one of them,” suggested 
Dunk. 

“ If he is all we’ll have to do will be to wait 
down at the other end, if we don’t find him in 
the store room,” spoke Andy. “ He’ll have to 
come out some time, and it’s too high up for him 
to jump.” 

“ It’s queer we didn’t hear him run past our 
room,” remarked Dnuk. 

“ He had on rubber shoes — that’s why,” ex- 
plained Frank. “ He went out of my room like 
a shadow. At first I didn’t realize what it was, 
but when I found my stuff had vanished I woke 
up.” 

“Rubber shoes, eh?” said Andy. “He’s an 
up-to-date burglar all right.” 

“ Well, let’s try the storeroom,” suggested 
Dunk, as they neared it. They were rather nerv- 
out, in spite of the fact that their forces out- 
numbered the enemy three to one. With shovel, 
tongs and poker held in readiness, they advanced. 
The door of the big closet was closed, and, just 
as Andy was about to put his hand on the knob, 


The Book 223 

the portal swung open, and out stepped — Morti- 
mer Gaffington. 

“ Why — er — why — you — you ! ” stam- 

mered Andy. 

“ Did you — have you ? ” This was what 

Dunk tried to say. 

“ Is he in there? ” Frank wanted to know. 

Mortimer looked coolly at the three. 

“I say,” he drawled, “what’s up? Are you 
looking for a rat? ” 

“No, the quadrangle thief!” exclaimed 
Andy. “He went in Frank’s room and took his 
book and silver cup, and lit out. Came down 
here and we’re after him! Have you seen 
him? ” 

“ No,” replied Mortimer, slowly. “ I came 
up here to get Charley Taylor’s mushroom bat. 
He said he stuck it in here when the season was 
over, and he told me I could have it if I could 
fish it out. I had the dickens of a time in there, 
pawing over a lot of old stuff.” 

“Did you get the bat? ” asked Dunk. 

“No. I don’t believe it’s there. If it is I’d 
have to haul everything out to get at it. I’m 
going to give it up.” 

As he spoke he threw open the closet door. 
An electric light was burning inside, and there 
was revealed to the eyes of Andy and his chums 
a confused mass of material. Most of it was of 


224 


Andy at Yale 

a sporting character, and belonged to the stu- 
dents on that floor, they using the store room 
for the accumulation that could not be crowded 
into their own apartments. 

“ A regular junk heap,” commented Frank. 
“ But where the mischief did that fellow go who 
was in my room? ” 

“ It is sort of queer,” admitted Andy, as he 
looked down. Without intending to do so he 
noticed that Mortimer did not wear rubber-soled 
shoes, but had on a heavy pair that would have 
made noise enough down the corridor had he 
hurried along the passage. 

“ Maybe you dreamed it,” suggested Morti- 
mer. “ I didn’t see anything of anyone coming 
down here, and I was in that closet some time, 
rummaging away.” 

“ Must have been pretty warm in there — with 
the door closed,” suggested Dunk. 

“ It was hot. The door swung shut when I 
was away back in a corner trying to fish out that 
bat, and I didn’t want to climb back and open it. 
Well, I guess I’ll go clean up. I’m all dust.” 

Truth to tell, he was rather disheveled, his 
clothes being spotted in several places with dust 
and cobwebs, while his face and hands were also 
soiled. 

“ Well, I guess he fooled us,” commented 
Andy. “I can’t understand it, though. We 


The Book 


225 


came down this hall right after him, and there’s 
no stairway going up or down from this end. 
How could he give us the slip?” 

“ Easily enough,” said Mortimer. “ He could 
have slid into some empty room, locked the door 
on the inside and waited until you fellows rushed 
past. Then he could come out and go down the 
stairs behind you without you seeing him.” 

“ That’s what he did then, all right,” decided 
Dunk. “ We might as well give it up. Report 
your loss, Frank.” 

“Yes. I will. Whew! Another quadrangle 
robbery to add to the list. I wonder when this 
thing will stop? ” 

No one could answer him. Mortimer switched 
off the light in the store room, remarking that 
he’d have another look for the bat later. Then 
he accompanied Andy and the others on their 
way back down the corridor. Gaffington depart- 
ed to his own dormitory, while Frank went to 
report to the Dean, and Andy and Dunk turned 
into their room. 

“ Well, what do you think of it? ” asked Andy. 

“ I don’t know,” responded his room-mate. 
“ Mortimer’s explanation seems to cover it.” 

“All the same we’ll leave our door open, on 
the chance that the thief may still be hiding in 
some empty room, and will try to sneak out,” 
suggested Andy. 


226 


Andy at Yale 

“ Sure, that’s good enough.” 

But, though they watched for some time, no 
one came down the corridor past their room but 
the regular students. 

And so the theft of the book and silver cup 
passed into history with the other mysteries. 
Further search was made, and the private detec- 
tive agency, that had been engaged by the Dean, 
sent some active men scouting around, but noth- 
ing came of it. 

The Christmas vacation was at hand and Andy 
went home to spend it in Dunmore. Chet, Ben 
and his other school chums were on hand, and 
as Andy remarked concerning the occasion, “ a 
jolly time was had by all.” 

Chet and Ben were with Andy most of the 
time, and when Andy told of the doings at Yale, 
Chet responded with an account of the fun at 
Harvard, while Ben related the doings of the 
Jersey Tiger. 

Andy’s second term at Yale began early in the 
new year, and he arrived in New Haven during a 
driving snow storm. He went at once to his 
room, where he found a note from Dunk, who 
had come in shortly before. 

“ Come over to the eating joint,” the missive 
read, and Andy, stowing away his bag, headed 
for the place. 

“Over in here!” 


The Book 


227 


“ Shove in, plenty of room! ” 

“Oh, you, Andy Blair !” 

“Happy New Year!” 

Thus was he greeted and thus he greeted in 
turn. Then, amid laughter and talk, and the 
rattle of knives and forks, acquaintanceship and 
friendship were renewed. Andy was beginning 
to feel like a seasoned Yale man now. 

The studies of the second term were of in- 
creasing difficulty, and Andy and Dunk found 
they had to buckle down to steady work. But 
they had counted on this. 

Still they found time for fun and jollity and 
spent many a pleasant evening in company with 
their other friends. Once or twice Mortimer 
and his cronies tried to get Dunk to spend the 
night with them, but he refused; or, if he did 
go, he took Andy with him, and the two always 
came home early, and with clear heads. 

“They’re a pair of quitters!” said Len Scott, 
in disgust, after one occasion of this kind. 
“ What do you want to bother with ’em for, 
Mort?” 

“ That’s what I say,” added Clarence Boyle. 

“ Oh, well, I may have my reasons,” returned 
Mortimer, loftily. “ Dunk would be a good sort 
if he wasn’t tied fast to Andy. I can’t get along 
with him, though.” 

“ Me either,” added Len. “ He’s too goody- 


228 


Andy at Yale 

goody.” Which was somewhat unjust to Andy. 

The winter slowly wore on. Now and then 
there would be another of the mysterious rob- 
beries, and on nearly every occasion the article 
taken was of considerable value — jewelry, sport- 
ing trophies or expensive bpoks. There was sus- 
picion of many persons, but not enough to war- 
rant an arrest. 

One day Hal Pulter, who roomed in Wright 
Hall, near Dunk and Andy, reported that an 
expensive reference book had been taken from 
his room. The usual experience followed, with 
no result. 

Then, about a week later, as Andy was walk- 
ing past the small building at High and Elm 
streets, where the University Press had its 
quarters, he came up behind Mortimer Gaffing- 
ton, who seemed to be studying a book. 

Andy wondered somewhat at Mortimer’s ap- 
plication, particularly as it was snowing at the 
time. This enabled Andy to come close up be- 
hind Gaffington without the latter being aware 
of it, and, looking over the shoulder of the youth, 
Andy saw on the fly-leaf of the volume a peculiar 
ink blot. 

At once a flash of recollection came to Andy. 
Well did he know that ink blot, for he had made 
it himself. 

“ Why, that’s Pulter’s book ! ” he exclaimed, 


The Book 229 

speaking aloud involuntarily. “ Where did you 
get it? ” 

Mortimer turned quickly and faced Andy. 

“ What’s that?” he asked, sharply. 

“ I say that’s Pulter’s book,” Andy went on. 
“How do you know?” asked Mortmer. 

“ Why, by that big ink blot. I made it. Pul- 
ter was in our room with the book just before 
it was stolen, and my fountain pen leaked on it. 
That sure is Pulter’s book. Where did you get 
it? That’s the one he made such a fuss about! ” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE ACCUSATION 

“Putter’s book, eh?” murmured Mortimer, 
slowly, as he turned it about, looking on the 
front and back blank pages. 

“ It sure is,” went on Andy, eagerly. “ I’d 
know that ink blot anywhere. Pulter let out a 
howd like an Indian when my pen leaked on his 
book. The blot looks like a Chinese laundryman 
turned upside down.” 

“ That’s right,” agreed Mortimer. “ Queer, 
isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” went on Andy, his curiosity growing. 
“Where did you get it?” 

“ Found it,” spoke the rich lad, quickly. “ I 
went out to the new Yale Field to see how the 
stadium was coming on, and I saw this under a 
clump of bushes. I knew it was a valuable book, 
so I brought it back with me. It hasn’t got 
Pulter’s name in it, though.” 

“ No,” went on Andy. “ His name was on 
the other front leaf. That was worse blotted 
with the ink than this one, and he tore it out. 
But I’m sure that’s Pulter’s book,” 

230 


IThe Accusation 


231 


“Very likely,” admitted Mortimer, coolly. 
“ I’ll take it to him. I’m glad I found it. Going 
my way? ” 

“ Yes,” and Andy walked beside the lad from 
his home town, thinking of many things. Mor- 
timer went into Wright Hall, but Pulter was not 
in. 

“ I’ll leave the book for him,” Mortimer said 
to Andy, “and you can call his attention to it. If 
it isn’t his let me know, and I’ll post a notice 
saying that I’ve found it.” 

“ All right,” agreed our hero. “ But I know 
it’s Pulter’s.” 

He was telling Dunk about the incident, when 
his room-mate came in a little later, and they 
were discussing the queer coincidence, when Pul- 
ter came bursting in. 

“Oh, I say!” he cried. “I’ve got my book 
back! What do you know about that? It was 
on my table, and ” 

He stopped and looked queerly at Andy and 
Dunk, who were smiling. 

“What’s the joke?” demanded Pulter. “ Did 
you fellows ” 

“ Gaffington found it,” said Andy. “ Sit down 
and I’ll explain,” which he did. 

“ Well, that is a queer go ! ” exclaimed Pulter. 
“ How in the world did my book get out to Yale 
Field? It isn’t so queer that Gaffington would 


232 


Andy at Yale 

find it, for I understand he goes out there a lot, 
on walks. But how did my book get there?” 

“ Probably whoever took it found they couldn’t 
get much by pawning or selling it, and threw it 
away,” suggested Dunk. 

“ Looks that way,” agreed Andy. “ But it 
sure is a queer game all around.” 

They discussed it from many standpoints. 
Pulter was very glad to get his book back, for 
he was not a wealthy lad, and the cost of a new 
volume meant more to him than it would to 
others. 

“Well, Andy, how do you size it up? ” asked 
Dunk, when Pulter had gone back to his apart- 
ment and Andy and his chum sat in their cozy 
room before a crackling fire. 

“How do you mean?” asked Andy, to gain 
time. 

“Why, about Gaffington having that book. 
Didn’t it look sort of fishy to you?” 

“ It did in a way, yes. But his explanation 
was very natural. It all might have happened 
that way.” 

“ Oh, yes, of course. But do you believe it? ” 

“ I don’t know why I shouldn’t. Gaffington’s 
folks have no end of money, you know. He 
wouldn’t be guilty of taking a book. If he did 
want to crib something he’d go in for something 
big.” 


The Accusation 


233 


“ Well, some of these quadrangle robberies 
have been big enough. There’s my watch, for 
instance.” 

“ What! You don’t mean you believe Gaffing- 
ton is the quadrangle thief! ” exclaimed Andy, in 
surprise. 

“ I don’t believe it, exactly, no. If he’s rich, 
as you say, certainly he wouldn’t run the risk for 
the comparatively few dollars he could get out of 
the thefts. But I will admit that this book busi- 
ness did make me suspicious.” 

“ Oh, forget it,” advised Andy, with a laugh. 
“ I don’t like Gaffington, and I never did, but I 
don’t believe that of him.” 

“ Oh, well, I dare say I’m wrong. It was only 
a theory.” 

“ I would like to know who’s doing all this 
business, though,” went on Andy.” 

“ It’s probably some of the hired help they 
have around here,” suggested Dunk. u They 
can’t investigate the character of all the men and 
women employed in the kitchens, the dormitories 
and around the grounds.” 

“ No, that’s right. I only hope my friend 
Link doesn’t fall under suspicion.” 

For a week or so after this, matters went on 
quietly at Yale. There were no further thefts 
and the authorities had begun to hope there 
would be no more. They had about given up 


234 Andy at Yale 

the hope of solving the mystery of those already 
committed. 

Then came a sensation. Some very valuable 
books were taken one night from Chittenden 
Hall — rare volumes worth considerable money. 
The next morning there was much excitement 
when the fact became known. 

“Now something will be done!” predicted 
Andy. 

“ Well, what can they do that hasn’t already 
been done?” asked Dunk. “They may make a 
search of every fellow’s room. I wish they’d 
come here. Maybe they’d find that my watch, 
after all, has hidden itself away somewhere in- 
stead of being taken.” 

“ They’re welcome if they want to look here,” 
said Andy. “ But I don’t believe they’ll do that. 
They’ll probably get a real detective now.” 

And that was what the Dean did. He disliked 
very much to call in the public police, but the loss 
of the rare books was too serious a theft to 
pass over with the hiring of a private detective. 

Just what was done was not disclosed, but it 
leaked out that a close watch was being kept on 
all the employes at Yale, and suspicion, it was 
said, had narrowed down to one or two. 

One day Link called on Andy to pay back the 
money he had borrowed. 

“ There’s no hurry,” said Andy. “ 
need it.” 


I don’t 


The Accusation 


235 


“ Oh, I want to pay it back,” said the young 
farmer. “ I have plenty of cash now,” and he 
exhibited quite a roll of bills. 

“Been drawing your salary?” asked Andy, 
with a laugh. 

“ No, this is a little windfall that came to me,” 
was the answer. 

“ A windfall? Did someone die and leave you 
a fortune? ” 

“No, not exactly. It came to me in a curi- 
ous way. I got it through the mail, and there 
wasn’t a word of explanation with it. Just the 
bill folded in a letter. A hundred-dollar bill, it 
was, but I had it changed.” 

“ Do you mean someone sent you a hundred 
dollars, and you don’t know who it’s from?” 
asked Andy, in surprise. 

“ That’s right! ” exclaimed Link, with a laugh. 
“ I wish I did know, for I’d write and thank 
whoever it was. It surely came in handy.” 

“ Why, it’s very strange,” spoke Andy, slowly. 
“ Could you tell by the postmark where the letter 
came from?” 

“ It was from New York, but I haven’t a 
friend there that I know of.” 

“ Well, I’m glad you’ve got it. Take care of 
it, Link.” 1 

“ I intend to. I can lend you some now, if 
you need it, Mr. Blair.” 

“ Thank you, I have enough at present.” 


236 


Andy at Yale 

Andy watched his protege walk across the 
campus, and near the middle observed him 
stopped by a stranger. Link appeared surprised, 
and started back. There was a quick movement, 
and the young farmer was seized by the other. 

“That’s queer!” exclaimed Andy. “I won- 
der what’s up? Link may be in trouble. Maybe 
that fellow’s trying to rob him.” 

The quadrangle was almost deserted at the 
time. Andy hurried down and ran over to where 
Link was standing. The student caught the gleam 
of something on the wrist of his friend. It was 
a steel handcuff 1 

“What — what’s up, Link?” Andy gasped. 

“ Why, Mr. Blair — I don’t know. This man 
— he says he’s a detective, and ” 

“ So I am a detective, and I don’t want any 
of your funny work! ” was the snappish retort. 
“ There’s my badge,” and it was flashed from 
under the armhole of the man’s vest, being fast- 
ened to his suspenders, where most plain-clothes 
men carry their official emblem. 

“A detective!” gasped Andy. “What’s the 
matter? Why do you want Link Bardon?” 

“ We want him because he’s accused of being 
the quadrangle thief!” was the unexpected an- 
swer. “ Stand aside now, I’m going to take him 
to the station house! ” 


CHAPTER XXX 


THE LETTER 

Andy could scarcely understand it. Surely, 
he thought, there must be some mistake. He was 
glad there was not a crowd of students about to 
witness the humiliation of Link — a humiliation 
none the less acute if the charge was groundless. 

“ Wait a minute — hold on! ” exclaimed Andy, 
sharply, and there was something in his voice 
that caused the detective to pause. 

“Well, what is it?” the officer growled. “ I 
haven’t any time to waste.” 

“ Do you really want him on a robbery 
charge? ” asked Andy. 

“ I do — if his name is Link Bardon,” was the 
cool answer. “ I guess he won’t attempt to deny 
it. I’ve been on his trail for some time.” 

“ That’s my name, sure enough — I have no 
reason to deny it,” said Link, who had turned 
pale. His eyes had traces of tears in them. 
After all, he was not much older than Andy and 
he was a gentle sort of youth, unused to the rough 
ways of the world. 


237 


238 


Andy at Yale 

“ I thought I was right,” the detective went on. 
“ I’ve been watching for you. Now the question 
is — are you coming along quietly, or shall I have 
any trouble?” 

“ I won’t give you any trouble — certainly not,” 
protested Link. “But this is all a mistake! I 
haven’t taken a thing! You know I wouldn’t 
steal, don’t you, Mr. Blair? ” 

“I certainly believe it, Link, and I’ll do all I 
can to help you. What are you going to do with 
him?” he asked the detective. 

“Lock him up — what do you suppose?” 

“ But can’t he get out on bail?” 

“ Oh, it could be arranged. I have nothing to 
do with that. I’m just supposed to get him — 
and I’ve got him ! ” 

“But I — I haven’t done anything!” insisted 
Link. 

“ That’s what they all say,” sneered the de- 
tective. “ Come along! ” 

“ Do — do I have to go with him?” asked 
Link, turning to Andy in appeal. 

“ I’m afraid so,” was the answer. “ But I’ll 
go with you and try to get bail. Don’t worry, 
Link. It’s all a mistake. You’ll soon be free.” 

“ Don’t be too sure of that,” warned the of- 
ficer. “ I’ve been searching your room, young 
man, and I guess you know what I found there ” 

“You certainly found in my room only the 


The Letter 239 

things that belonged to me ! ” exclaimed Link, 
indignantly. 

“Did I? What do you call this?” and the 
detective took from his pocket a small book. 
Andy recognized it at once as one of the valu- 
able ones taken from Chittenden Hall. 

“You — you found that in my room?” cried 
Link, aghast. 

“ I sure did. In your room on Crown street. 
Now maybe you won’t be so high and mighty.” 

“ If you found that in my room, someone else 
put it there! ” declared Link. “ I certainly never 
did.” 

“Well, I won’t say that couldn’t happen,” 
spoke the officer coolly, “ but if you think I 
planted it there to frame up some evidence 
against you, you’ve got another guess coming. I 
took your landlady into the room with me, to 
have a witness, and she saw me pull this book 
out from the bottom of a closet.” 

“ I never put it there! ” protested Link. 

“ You can tell that to the judge,” went on the 
officer. “ How about all the money you’ve been 
sporting around to-day, too?” 

Link started. Andy, too, saw how dangerous 
this evidence might be. 

“ I’ve had some money — certainly,” admitted 
Link. 

“ Where’d you get it?” 


240 


Andy at Yale 

Link hesitated. He realized that the story 
would sound peculiar. 

“ It was sent to me,” he answered. 

“Who sent it?” 

“ I don’t know. It came in the mail without 
a word of explanaton.” 

The detective laughed. 

“ I thought you’d have some* such yarn as 
that,” he said. “ They all do. I guess you’ll 
have to come with me. I’m sorry,” he went on 
in a more gentle tone. “ I’m only doing my duty. 
I’ve been working on the quadrangle case for 
some time, and I think I’ve landed my man. But 
it isn’t as much fun as you might think. I’ll only 
say that I believe I have the goods on you, and 
I’ll warn you that anything you say now may be 
used against you. So you’d better keep still. 
Come along.” 

“Must I go?” asked Link again of Andy. 

“ I’m afraid so. But I’ll have you out on bail 
as soon as I can. Don’t worry, Link.” 

Andy learned from the detective before what 
judge Link would be arraigned and then, as the 
young farmer lad was led away in disgrace, Andy 
started back to his room. 

“ I’ve got to get Dunk to help me in this,” he 
reasoned. “To go on bail you have to own 
property, or else put up the cash, and I can’t do 
that. Maybe Dunk can suggest a way.” 


The Letter 


241 


Andy was glad it was so dark that no one 
could see Link being taken away by the officer. 

“ How did that book get in Link’s room?” 
mused Andy. “ That sure will tell against him. 
But I know he didn’t steal it. Some other janitor 
or helper who could get into Chittenden may 
have taken it, and then got afraid and dumped it 
in Link’s closet. A lot of college employes live on 
Crown street. I must get Link a lawyer and tell 
him that.” 

Andy found Dunk in the room, and excit- 
edly broke the news to him. 

“Whew! You don’t say so!” cried Dunk. 
“Your friend Link arrested! What do you 
know about that? And the book in his room! ” 

“ Somebody else put it there,” suggested Andy. 

“ Possibly. But that money-in-a-letter story 
sounds sort of fishy.” 

“ That is a weak point,” Andy admitted. 
“ But we’ll have to consider all that later. The 
question is: How can we get Link out on bail? 
Got any money?” 

Dunk pulled out his pocketbook and made a 
hurried survey. 

“ About thirty plunks,” he said. 

“ I’ve got twenty-five,” said Andy. “ Link has 
nearly a hundred himself.” 

“ That won’t be enough,” said Dunk. “ This 
is a grand larceny charge and the bail will be 


242 


Andy at Yale 

five hundred dollars anyhow. Now I’ll tell you 
the best thing to do.” 

“What?” 

“ Hire a good lawyer. We’ve got money 
enough, with what Link has, to pay a good re- 
taining fee. Let the lawyer worry about the 
bail. Those fellows always have ways of getting 
it.” 

“ I believe you’re right,” agreed Andy. “We 
can put up fifty dollars for a retainer to the 
lawyer.” 

“ I’ll telegraph for more from home to-night,” 
said Dunk. “ Andy, we’ll see this thing through.” 

“ It’s mighty good of you, Dunk.” 

“Nonsense! Why shouldn’t I help out your 
friend? ” 

“ Do you think he’s guilty?” 

“ I wouldn’t want to say. Certainly I hope he 
isn’t; but I’d like to get my watch back.” 

“ Well, let’s go get a lawyer,” suggested Andy. 

A sporty senior, whom Dunk knew, and who 
had more than once been in little troubles that 
required the services of a legal man, gave them 
the address of a good one. They were fortunate 
in finding him in his office, though it was rather 
late, and he agreed to take the case, and said he 
thought bail could be had. 

Andy and Dunk made a hasty supper and then, 
letting their studies go, hurried to the police 


The Letter 


243 


court, where, occasionally, night sessions were 
held. 

Link was brought out before the judge, having 
first had a conference with the lawyer Dunk and 
Andy had engaged. The charge was formally 
made. 

“ We plead not guilty,” answered the lawyer, 
“ and I ask that my client be admitted to bail.” 

“Hum!” mused the judge. “The specific 
charge only mentions one book, of the value of 
two hundred dollars, but I understand there are 
other charges to follow. I will fix bail at one 
thousand dollars, the prisoner to stand committed 
until a bond is signed.” 

Andy and Dunk gasped at the mention of a 
thousand dollars, but the lawyer only smiled 
quietly. 

“ I have a bondsman here, your Honor,” he 
said. 

A man, looking like an Italian, came forward, 
but he proved to have the necessary property, and 
signed the bond. Then Link was allowed to go, 
being held, however, to answer to a higher court 
for the charge against him. 

“ Now if you’ll come to my office,” suggested 
the lawyer, “ we’ll plan out this case.” 

“ Oh, I can’t thank you two enough! ” gasped 
Link, when he was free of the police station. “ It 
was awful back there in the cell.” 


244 


Andy at Yale 

“ Forget it,” advised Dunk, with a laugh. 
“ You’ll never go back there again.” 

The consultation with the lawyer took some 
time, and when it was over Link started for his 
room. He was cheered by the prospect that the 
case against him was very slight. 

“ Unless they get other evidence,” specified the 
lawyer. 

“They can’t!” cried Link, proudly. 

Andy and Dunk went back to their room, to 
do some necessary studying. On their way they 
stopped in the Yale branch postoffice. There was 
a letter from home for Andy, and when he had 
read it he uttered such an exclamation that Dunk 
asked: 

“ Any bad news? ” 

“ Yes, but not for me,” replied Andy. “ This 
is from my mother. She writes that Mr. Gaf- 
fington — that’s Mortimer’s father — has failed in 
business and lost all his, money. This occurred 
some time ago, but the family has been keeping 
it quiet. The Gaffingtons aren’t rich at all, and 
Mortimer will probably have to leave Yale.” 

“Too bad,” said Dunk, and then he started 
off, leaving Andy to read the letter again. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


ON THE DIAMOND 

Andy Blair stood in the middle of his room, 
carefully examining a bat he had taken from a 
closet containing, among other possessions, his 
sporting things. The bat was a favorite he had 
used while at Milton, and he was considering 
having it sand-papered and oiled. Or, rather, he 
was considering doing the work himself, for he 
would not trust his choicest stick to the hands of 
another. 

“Yes, she’ll look a little better for a bit of 
attention, I think,” said Andy, half aloud. 
“ Though I don’t know as I can bat any better 
with it.” 

He gave two or three preliminary swings in 
the air, when the door suddenly opened, a head 
was thrust in and Andy gave it a glancing blow. 

“Wow! What’s that for?” the newcomer 
gasped. “ A nice way to receive company, Andy! 
Where’d you learn that?” 

“I beg your pardon, Bob, old man!” ex- 
claimed Andy, as he recognized Hunter, Dunk’s 
243 


246 Andy at Yale 

friend. 44 1 was just getting out my bat to see 
how it felt and ” 

4 ‘ I can tell you how it felt,” interrupted Bob, 
with emphasis. “It felt hard! Better put up a 
sign outside your door — ‘ Beware of the bat.’ ” 

“ And have the fellows think this is a zoologi- 
cal museum,” laughed Andy. 44 I will not. But, 
Bob, I’m very sorry you got in the way of my 
stick. Does it hurt? Want any witch hazel or 
anything like that?” 

44 Oh, no, it isn’t so worse. Good thing I wear 
my hair long or I might have a headache. But 
say — where’s Dunk?” 

44 He was with me a little while ago. We 
stopped in the postoffice, and I thought he came 
on here. But he didn’t. Have you seen him? ” 

44 No, but I want to. Gaffington and his crowd 
are going to have another blow-out to-night, and 
I wanted to make sure Dunk wouldn’t fall by the 
wayside.” 

44 That’s so. Glad you told me. I’ll do all I 
can. But say, he and I have had a strenuous time 
to-day.” 

“What’s up?” asked Bob. 44 I’ve been so 
blamed busy getting primed for a quiz that I 
haven’t had time to eat.” 

44 It’s about the robberies — the quadrangle 
thefts,” explained Andy. 44 They arrested Link 
Bardon.” 


On the Diamond 


247 


“What! Your farmer friend?” 

“ Yes. Dunk and I bailed him out.” 

“Good for you! Now I suppose the thefts 
will stop.” 

“ Not necessarily,” returned Andy, quickly. 
“ Link wasn’t the thief.” 

“ He wasn’t? Then why did they pinch him? 
Of course I don’t know anything about it, and 
if he’s your friend, why, of course, you have a 
right to stick up for him.” 

“ Oh, it isn’t that so much,” explained Andy. 
“I don’t know him very well; but I’m sure he 
isn’t guilty of the thefts. There are some queer 
circumstances about them, but I’m sure they can 
all be explained.” 

“Well, it’s your funeral — not mine,” said Bob, 
with a shrug of his shoulders. “ I wonder where 
Dunk is. I think I’ll go hunt him up.” 

“ All right, bring him back here when you 
come,” urged Andy. 

“Yes, and I suppose you’ll stand ready to 
greet us with a club — you cheerful reception 
committee!” laughed Bob. “Well, I’ll see you 
later.” 

Andy sat down, placing his bat across his knees. 

“ So Gaffington is going to give another spread, 
eh?” he mused. “That’s queer — on top of the 
news mother sends in her letter. What did I do 
with it?” 


248 


Andy at Yale 

He found it after looking through a mass of 
papers in his pockets, and read it again. Follow- 
ing its receipt at the college branch postoffice 
Andy had imparted the news to Dunk. Then the 
latter, meeting a friend, had walked off with him f 
while Andy came on to his room. 

On reaching his apartment, Dunk not having 
come in, Andy found a notice from the Freshman 
Athletic Committee, stating that baseball prac- 
tice would soon start in the indoor cage. 

Andy was an enthusiastic player, and had made 
a good record at Milton. As a freshman he was 
not eligible for the Yale varsity nine, but he could 
play on his class team, and he was glad the chance 
had come to him. 

Andy was thinking of many things as he sat 
there in the room, now and then swinging his bat. 
But he was careful not to let it go too close to 
the door, in case other visitors might chance in. 

“A whole lot of things have happened since 
morning,” said Andy to himself. “ That sure 
was a strenuous time over poor Link. I wonder 
what he’ll do ? Probably the college will fire him 
from his job. I guess I’ll have to see what I can 
do to get him another. But that won’t be easy 
when it becomes known that he’s out on bail on a 
theft charge. 

“ Then there’s that news about Mortimer. 
And to think that he’s known all along that he 


On the Diamond 


249 


might have to leave Yale, yet he’s been going 
on and living as if his father’s millions were in a 
safe deposit box. I wonder By Jove! ” ex- 

claimed Andy, leaping up. “ I never thought of 
that. Why not? If he needs money ” 

His train of thought was interrupted by a 
knock on his door, which had swung shut as Bob 
Hunter went out. 

“ Come in ! ” invited Andy, and he started as 
Mortimer Gaffington slid in. Andy gave him a 
quick glance, but either Mortimer was a good 
actor, or he did not feel his father’s loss of 
money, providing the news Mrs. Blair had sent 
her son was correct. 

“ Hello, Andy,” greeted Gaffington, as he 
slumped into an easy chair. “Where’s Dunk?” 

“ I don’t know. Bob Hunter was just in look- 
ing for him. Make yourself at home — he may be 
in soon.” In spite of his dislike of Gaffington, 
and his fear lest he influence Dunk for evil, Andy 
could do no less than play the part of host. 

“ Thanks, I will stay for a while,” answered 
Mortimer. “Been looking for thieves again?” 
he asked, noting the bat in Andy’s hand. He re- 
ferred to the time when Andy and his two friends 
had sought an intruder down the corridor, and 
had only found Mortimer delving in a storeroom. 

“ No, not this time,” laughed Andy. ** But the 
freshman team is going to get together, so I 


250 


Andy at Yale 

thought I’d get out my fishing tackle, so to speak.” 

“ I see. I guess the varsity indoor practice 
will start soon. Say, what’s this I hear about 
someone being arrested for the quadrangle 
thefts?” 

“ It’s true enough,” replied Andy, looking 
sharply at his visitor. “ Link Bardon was ar- 
rested, and Dunk and I got him bailed out.” 

“You did! ” cried Mortimer, almost jumping 
from the chair. 

“Why, was there anything strange in that?” 
asked Andy, in surprise. 

“ I should think so ! ” exclaimed Mortimer, 
sharply. “ Here the whole college has been up- 
set by a lot of robberies, and your own roommate 
loses a valuable watch. Then, as soon as the 
thief is arrested, you fellows go on his bail! 
Strange? Well, I should say so!” 

“ I didn’t say we went on his bond,” spoke 
Andy, quietly. “ Dunk and I only got him a law- 
yer who arranged for it. But I don’t believe Link 
is guilty.” 

“ Well, that’s a matter of opinion,” said Mor- 
timer, and there was anger in his voice. “ Of 
course, though, if he’s your friend you do right 
to stick up for him.” 

“Yes,” agreed Andy, “he is my friend. And 
it’s at a time like this that he needs friends.” 

“Oh, well,” said Mortimer, with a shrug of 


On the Diamond 251 

his shoulders, “ let’s forget it. I wonder what’s 
keeping Dunk? ” 

“Anything I can do?” asked Andy, wishing 
Mortimer would leave before Dunk came in. He 
did not want his chum taken to Burke’s for a 
“ won’t be home until morning ” affair if he could 
help it. 

“ No, I want to see Dunk on a personal mat- 
ter,” said the caller. “ Guess I won’t wait any 
longer, though,” and he arose to go out. Just 
as he reached the door Dunk came in whistling. 

“Anything on?” Andy heard Mortimer ask 
quickly. 

“No. Why?” 

“ Can I see you a moment outside?” 

“ Sure. I’ll be back in a minute, Andy,” said 
Dunk. “ I met Bill Hagan just as I left the post- 
office and he wanted me to look at a bull pup he 
wants to sell.” 

Dunk and Mortimer walked down the hall. 
Andy was a little anxious as to what might de- 
velop, but he need have had no fears. Dunk 
returned presently, looking rather grave. 

“Did he want you to go to his blow-out?” 
asked Andy, with the privilege of a roommate. 

“Yes, but I’m not going. He wanted some 
money. Said he was dead broke.” 

“ And yet he’s going to blow in a lot. Did you 
give it to him? ” 


252 


Andy at Yale 

“ What else could I do? When a fellow’s 
down and out that’s just the time he needs help.” 

“ That’s right,” agreed Andy, thinking of 
Link. “ But did Mortimer say anything about 
his father’s losses? ” 

“ Not a thing. Just said he was temporarily 
broke, and asked for a loan. I couldn’t refuse.” 

“ No, I suppose not. But you must be strapped 
after putting up for Link. I know I am. I’m 
going to telegraph home.” 

“You needn’t. I got a check in the mail to- 
night and I cashed it. I can lend you some if 
you want it.” 

“ Well, I may call on you. But say, it’s queer 
about Mortimer, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, but we don’t know all the ins and outs 
of it yet. Maybe that rumor about his folks 
losing all they had isn’t true.” 

“ Maybe. I’ll write home and find out. Say, 
but I’m tired ! ” 

“ So am I ! I’m going to stay in to-night.” 

So it came about that neither Dunk nor Andy 
went to the little affair Mortimer gave on bor- 
rowed money. It was “ quite some affair,” too, 
as Bob Hunter reported later, having heard 
stories about it, and one or two participants were 
suspended as a result of their performances after 
the spread. 


On the Diamond 


253 


After the rather exciting time concerning 
Link’s arrest matters at Yale, as regards the 
happenings with which this chronicle concerns it- 
self, quieted down. Link’s case would not come 
up for trial for some time. Meanwhile he was 
allowed his liberty on bail. He was, of course, 
discharged from his position. 

“ But I’ve got another job,” he said to Andy, 
a day or so later. “ That lawyer is a good sort. 
He helped me. I’m just going to stick here until 
I prove that I didn’t have a hand in those rob- 
beries.” 

“That’s the way to talk!” cried Andy. 
“You didn’t hear where the hundred dollars 
came from, did you?” 

“No, and I can see that my explanation of 
how I got it isn’t going to be believed in court. 
But it’s true, just the same.” 

“ Then the truth will come out — some time,” 
said Andy, firmly. “ In the meanwhile, if I can 
do anything, let me know.” 

“ Thank you.” 

The months passed. Spring was faintly her- 
alded in milder weather, by the return of the 
birds, and the presence of little buds on the leaf- 
less trees. 

Somewhat to the disappointment of Andy 
there were no more quadrangle robberies. That 


254 


Andy at Yale 

is, Andy was disappointed to a certain extent. 
For if the thefts had still kept up after the dis- 
charge of Link, it would at least show that some- 
one besides the young farmer was guilty. As it 
was, it made his case appear all the worse. 

“ But I’m not going to believe it! ” exclaimed 
Andy. “Link is not guilty!” 

“ Go to it, old man! ” cried Dunk. “ I’m with 
you to the end.” 

Indoor baseball practice was held in the cage 
on Elm street, back of the gymnasium, and Andy 
was picked to catch for the freshman nine. Dunk, 
to his delight, was first choice for pitcher. Then 
came intense longings to get out on the real dia- 
mond. 

The chance came sooner than was expected, 
for there was an early Spring. The ground was 
still a little soft and damp, but it could be played 
on, and soon crowds of students began pouring 
out to Yale Field to watch the practice and the 
games between the class nines, or the varsity and 
the scrubs. 

“ Come on now, Dunk, sting ’em in ! ” 

“ Fool him, boy, fool him! ” 

“ Make him give you a nice one! ” 

“Watch his glass arm break! ” 

These cries greeted Dunk, who was pitching 
for the freshmen against a scrub nine one after- 
noon. It was a few days before the game with 


On the Diamond 


255 


the Princeton freshmen — the first game of the 
season, and the Yale freshman coaches were anx- 
ious to get their nine into good shape. 

“Ah! There he goes!” came a yell, as the 
scrub batter hit the ball Dunk pitched in to Andy. 
But the ball went straight back into the hands of 
Dunk, who stopped it, hot liner though it was, 
and the batter was out — retiring the side. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


VICTORY 

Mortimer Gaffington stayed on at Yale. 
How he did it Andy and Dunk, who alone 
seemed to know of his father’s failure, could not 
tell. Andy’s mother confirmed her first news 
about Mr. Gafiington’s losses. Yet Mortimer 
stayed at college. 

Afterward it developed that he was in dire 
straits, and only by much ingenuity did he man- 
age to raise enough to keep up appearances. He 
borrowed right and left, taking from one to sat- 
isfy the demands of another — an endless chain 
sort of arrangement that was bound to break 
sooner or later. 

But Mortimer had managed to make a number 
of new friends in the “ fast ” set and these were 
not careful to remind him of the loans he solic- 
ited. Then, also, these youths had plenty of 
money. On them Mortimer preyed. 

He gave a number of suppers which were the 
talk of the college, but he was wise enough to 
keep them within certain bounds so that he was 
25 6 


Victory 257 

not called to account. But he was walking over 
thin ice, and none knew it better than himself. 
But there was a fatal fascination in it. 

Several times he came to Dunk to invite him 
to attend some of the midnight affairs, but Dunk 
declined, and Andy was very glad. Dunk said 
Mortimer had several times asked for loans, but 
had met with refusals. 

“ I’m not going to give him any more,” said 
Dunk. “ He’s had enough of my cash now.” 

“Hasn’t he paid any back?” asked Andy. 

“Some, yes, and the next time he wants more 
than at first. I’m done.” 

“ I should think so,” remarked Andy. “ He’s 
played you long enough.” 

“ Oh, Mortimer isn’t such a bad sort when you 
get to know him,” went on Dunk, easily. “ I 
rather like him, but I can see that it isn’t doing 
anyone any good to be in his crowd. That’s why 
I cut it out. I came here to make something of 
myself — I owe it to dad, who’s putting up the 
cash, and I’m not going to disappoint him. Then, 
too, you old scout, I suppose you wouldn’t let me 
go sporting around the way I used to.” 

“ Not much ! ” laughed Andy, but there was 
an undernote of seriousness in his words. 

There was nothing new in Link’s case. It was 
still hanging fire in the courts. And there were 
no more robberies. It was somewhat of a puzzle 


258 


Andy at Yale 

to Andy that they should cease with the arrest of 
Link, whom he coud not believe guilty. 

Dunk’s watch had not been recovered, nor had 
any more of the valuable books, one of which was 
found by the detective in Link’s room, been dis- 
covered. How it got in the closet of the young 
farmer, unless he put it there, the lawyer whom 
Andy and Dunk had hired said he could not 
understand. 

“ I’ve had my man interview the boarding mis- 
tress at the house in Crown street/’ the lawyer 
told the boys, u and she says no one went to 
Link’s room, but himself, the day the book was 
found. But I haven’t given up yet.” 

It was the night before (the YaleOPrinceton 
freshman baseball game, which was to take 
place at Yale Field. Andy and Dunk were in 
their room, talking over the possibilities, and per- 
fecting their code of signals. 

“ It looks as though it would be good weather,” 
observed Andy, getting up and going to the win- 
dow. “ Nice and clear outside.” 

“ If it only keeps so,” returned Dunk. “ Hope 
we have a good crowd.” 

Someone knocked on the door. 

“ Come ! ” called Andy and Dunk together. 
The two chums looked at each other curiously. 

Ikey Stein entered, his face all smiles. 

u Such bargains!” he began 


Victory 259 

“ Socks or neckties? ” asked Andy, looking for 
a book to throw at the intruder. 

“Socks — silk ones, and such colors! Look!” 
and from various pockets he pulled pairs of half 
hose. They fell about the room, giving it a de- 
cidedly rainbow effect. 

“ Oh, for the love of tomatoes ! ” cried Dunk. 
“ Have you been raiding a paint store?” 

“ These are all the latest shades — the fashion 

just over from Paris ! ” exclaimed Ikey, indig- 
nantly. “ I bought a fellow’s stock out and I can 
let you have these for a quarter a pair. They’re 
worth fifty in any store.” 

“Take ’em away!” begged Andy. “They 
hurt my eyes. I won’t be able to play ball to- 
morrow.” 

“You ought to buy some — look, I have some 
dark blue ones,” urged Ikey, holding them up. 
“These are very — chaste!” 

“ Those aren’t so bad,” conceded Dunk, toler- 
antly. 

“ Take ’em for twenty cents,” said the student 
salesman, suddenly. “ I need the money! ” 

“ Tell you what I’ll do,” spoke Andy. “ If we 
win the game to-morrow I’ll buy a dollar’s worth, 
provided you let us alone now.” 

“ It’s a bargain! ” cried Ikey, gathering up the 
scattered socks. 

“And I’ll do the same,” promised Dunk, 


260 Andy at Yale 

whereupon the salesman departed for other 
rooms. 

“Queer chap, isn’t he?” remarked Dunk, 
after a pause that followed Ikey’s departure. 

“Yes, but do you know, I rather like him,” 
said Andy, with a quick look at his chum. 
“ There’s one thing that a fellow gets into the 
habit of when he comes to Yale — or, for that 
matter, to any good college, I suppose.” 

“What’s that? ” asked Dunk, his mind quickly 
snapping to some of the not very good habits he 
had fallen into. 

“ It’s learning how to take the measure of a 
fellow,” went on Andy, “ I mean his measure in 
the right way — not according to the standards 
we are used to.” 

“Quite philosophical; aren’t you?” laughed 
Dunk, as he picked up a book, and leafed it. 

“ Well, that’s another habit you get into here,” 
said Andy, with a smile. “ But you know what I 
mean, don’t you Dunk? ” 

“ Well, I suppose you mean that you get toler- 
ant of persons — fellows and so on — that you 
have a natural dislike for otherwise; is that it?” 

“ Partly. You learn to appreciate a fellow for 
what he is really worth — not because his dad 
can write a check in any number of figures, and 
not turn a hair. It’s worth that counts at Yale, 
and not cash.” 


Victoiy 261 

“You’re right there, Andy. I think I’ve 
learned that, too. Take some of the fellows 
here — we needn’t mention any names — their 
popularity, such as it is, depends on how much 
they can spend, or how many spreads they can 
give in the course of the year. And the worst of 
it is, that their popularity would go out like a 
candle in a tornado, once they lost their money.” 

“ Exactly,” agreed Dunk. u They get so to 
depending on the power of their cash they think 
its all that counts.” 

“ And another bad thing about that,” continued 
Andy,” is that those fellows, if they wanted to, 
could make a reputation on something else be- 
sides their cash. Now there’s one chap here — 
no names, of course — but he’s a fine musician, 
and he could make the glee club, and the dramatic 
association too, if he liked. But he’s just to con- 
founded lazy. He’d rather draw a check, give 
an order for a spread, and let it go at that. 

“ Of course the fellows like to go to the blow- 
outs, and — come home with a headache. This 
fellow thinks he gets a lot of fun out of it, but 
it’s dollars to some of these socks Ikey sells, that 
he’d have a heap more fun, and make a lot more 
permanent friends, if he’d get out and take part 
in something that was worth while. 

“ Now you take our friend Ikey. I don’t im- 
agine it’s any great fun for him to be going 


262 


Andy at Yale 

around selling things the way he does — he has 
to, I understand it. And yet at that, he has a 
better time of it than maybe you or I do — and 
we don’t exactly have to worry where our next 
allowance check is coming from.” 

“Right, Andy old man. Jove! You’d better 
have taken up the divinity school. I’m thinking. 
You’re a regular preacher.” 

“ I don’t feel a bit like preaching though, 
Dunk old boy. In fact I’d a heap sight rather 
turn in and snooze. But, do you know I’m so 
nervous over this game that I’m afraid I’ll lie 
awake and toss until morning, and then I won’t 
be much more use than a wet dishrag, as far as 
my nerve is concerned.” 

“ I feel pretty nearly the same as you do, Andy. 
Let’s sit up a while and talk. I s’pose, though, 
if we ever make the varsity we’ll laugh at the 
way we’re acting now.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” spoke Andy musingly. 
“ Some of these varsity fellows have as bad a case 
of nerves before a big game as we have now, 
before our little Freshman one.” 

“ It isn’t such a little one ! ” and Dunk 
bridled up. “ The winning of this game from 
Princeton means as much to our class, and to 
Yale, in a way, as though the varsity took a con- 
test. It all counts — for the honor of the old 
college.” How are you feeling, anyhow?” 


Victory 263 

“ Pretty fit. Pm only afraid, though, that I’ll 
make some horrible break in front of the crowd 
— muff a foul, or let one of your fast ones get 
by me with the bases full,” concluded Andy. 

“ If you do,” exclaimed Dunk, with a falsetto 
tone calculated to impress the hearer that a petu- 
lant girl was speaking — u if you do I’ll never 
speak to you again — so there ! ” and he pre- 
tended to toss back a refractory lock of hair. 

Andy laughed, and pitched a book at his chum, 
which volume Dunk successfully dodged. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want that to happen,” said 
the catcher. “And that reminds me. There’s a 
rip in my glove, and I’ve got to sew it.” 

“ Can you sew? ” 

“ Oh, a bit,” answered Andy. “ I’m strictly 
an amateur though, mind you. I don’t do it for 
pay, so if you’ve got any buttons that need weld- 
ing to your trousers don’t ask me to do it.” 

“Never!” exclaimed Dunk. “I’ve found a 
better way than that.” 

“ What is it — the bachelor’s friend — or every 
man his own tailor? Fasten a button on with a 
pair of gas-pliers so that you have to take the 
trousers apart when you want to get it off?” 

“ Something like that, yes,” laughed Dunk, 
“only simpler. Look here!” 

He pulled up the back of his vest and showed 
Andy where a suspender button was missing. In 


264 


Andy at Yale 

its place Dunk had taken a horseshoe nail, pushed 
it through a fold of the trousers,, and had caught 
the loop of the braces over the nail. 

“Isn’t that some classy little contrivance?” 
he asked, proudly. “ Not that I take any credit 
to myself, though. Far be it! I got the idea 
out of the comic supplement. But it works all 
right, and the beauty of it is that you can use 
the nail over and over again. It is practically 
indestructible. 

“ So you see if you are wearing the nail all 
day, to lectures and so on, and if you have to 
put on your glad rags at night to go see a girl, 
or anything like that, and find a button missing, 
you simply remove the nail from your day-pants 
and attach it to your night ones. Same suspend- 
ers — same nail. It beats the bachelor’s friend 
all to pieces.” 

“ I should imagine so,” laughed Andy. “ I’ll 
have to lay in a stock of those nails myself. The 
way tailors sew buttons on trousers nowadays is 
a scandal. They don’t last a week.” 

“ There’s one trouble, though,” went on Dunk, 
and he carefully examined his simple suspender 
attachment as if in fear of losing it. “ With the 
increasing number of autos, and the decrease in 
horses, there is bound to be a corresponding de- 
crease in horseshoe nails. That’s a principle of 
economics which I am going to bring to the at- 


Victory 265 

tention of Professor Shandy. He likes to lecture 
on such cute little topics as that. He might call 
it ‘ Bachelor’s future depends on the ratio of 
increase of automobiles.’ ” 

“ I see ! ” exclaimed Andy with a chuckle. 
“ Just as Darwin, or one of those evolutionists 
proved that the clover crop depended on old 
maids.” 

“How do you make that out?” asked Dunk. 

“ I guess you’ve forgotten your evolution. 
Don’t you remember? Darwin found that cer- 
tain kinds of clover depended for growth and 
fertilization on humble bees, which alone can 
spread the pollen. Humble bees can’t exist in a 
region where there are many field mice, for the 
mice eat the honey, nests and even the humble 
bees themselves. 

“ Now, of course you know that the more cats 
there are in a neighborhood the less field mice 
there are, so if you find a place where cats are 
plentiful you’ll find plenty of humble bees which 
aren’t killed off by the mice, since the mice are 
killed off by the cats. So Darwin proved that 
the clover crop, in a certain section, was in direct 
proportion to the number of cats.” 

“ But what about old maids? ” 

“ Oh, I believe it was Huxley who went Dar- 
win one better, come to think of it. Huxley said 
it was well known that the more old maids there 


266 


Andy at Yale 

were the more cats there were. So in a district 
well supplied with old maids there’d be plenty 
of cats, and in consequence plenty of clover.” 

“ Say, are you crazy, or am I? ” asked Dunk, 
with a wondering look at his friend. “ This* 
thing is getting me woozy! What did we start 
to talk about, anyhow?” 

“ Horseshoe nails.” 

“And now we’re at old maids. Good-night! 
Come on out and walk about a bit. The fresh 
air will do us good, and maybe we’ll sleep.” 

“ I’ll go you ! ” exclaimed Andy. “ Let’s go 
get some chocolate. I’m hungry and there isn’t 
a bit of grub left,” and he looked in the box 
where he usually kept some biscuits. 

They went out together, passing across the 
quadrangle, in which scores of students were flit- 
ting to and fro, under the elms, and in and out 
of the shadows of the electric lights. 

Dunk was saying something over to himself in 
a low voice. 

“What is that — a baseball litany?” asked 
Andy, with a laugh. 

“ No, I was trying to get that straight what 
you said about the supply of old maids in a com- 
munity depending on the number of clover blos- 
soms.” 

“ It’s the other way around — but cut it out. 
You’ll be droning away at that all night — like a 


Victory 267 

tune that gets in your head and can’t get out. 
Where’ll we go?” 

“ Oh, cut down Chapel street. Let’s take in 
the gay white way for a change. We may meet 
some of the fellows.” 

“ But no staying out late! ” Andy warned his 
chum. 

“ I guess not ! I want to be as fit as a fiddle 
in the morning.” 

“ For we’re going to chew up Princeton in the 
morning!” chanted Andy to the tune of a well- 
known ballad. 

“ I hope so,” murmured Dunk. “ Look, there 
goes Ikey,” and as he spoke he pointed to a 
scurrying figure that shot across the street and 
into a shop devoted to the auctioning of furnish- 
ing goods. 

“What’s he up to, I wonder?” spoke Andy. 

“ Oh, this is how he lays in his stock of goods 
that he sticks us with. He watches his chance, 
and buys up a lot, and then works them off on 
us.” 

“ Well, I give him credit for it,” spoke Andy, 
musingly. “ He works hard, and he’s making 
good. I understand he’s in line for one of the 
best scholarships.” 

“Then he’ll get it!” affirmed Dunk. “I 
never knew a fellow yet, like Ikey, who didn’t 
get what he set out after. I declare! it makes 


268 


Andy at Yale 

me ashamed, sometimes, to think of all the ad- 
vantages we have, and that we don’t do any 
better. And you take a fellow like him, who has 
to work for every dollar he gets — doesn’t belong 
to any of the clubs — doesn’t have any of the 
sports — has to study at all hours to get time to 
sell his stuff— and he’ll pull down a prize, and 
we chaps ” 

“Oh, can that stuff!” interrupted Andy. 
“ We’re worse than a couple of old women to- 
night. Let’s be foolish for once, and we’ll feel 
better for it. This game is sure getting our 
goats.” 

“ I believe you. Well, if you want a chance 
to be foolish, here comes the crowd to stand in 
with.” 

Down the street marched a body of Yale stu- 
dents, arm in arm, singing and chanting some of 
the latest songs, and now and then breaking into 
whistling. 

“ Gaffington’s bunch,” murmured Andy. 

“Yes, but he isn’t with ’em,” added Dunk. 
“ Slip in here until they get past,” and Dunk 
pulled his chum by the arm as they came opposite 
a dark hallway. 

But it was too late. Some of the sporty stu- 
dents had seen the two, and made a rush for 
them. 

“ Come on, Andy! ” 


Victory 269 

“ Oh, you, Dunk! Grab him, fellows!’’ 

Immediately the two were surrounded by a 
gay and laughing throng, 

“ Bring ’em along! ” 

“Down to the rathskeller!” 

“We’ll make a night of it!” 

“And we won’t go home until morning!” 

Thus the gay and festive lads chanted, mean- 
while circling about Andy and Dunk, who sought 
in vain to break through. Passersby went on 
their way, smiling indulgently at the antics of 
the students. 

“Fetch ’em along!” commanded the leader 
of the “ sports.” 

“ Come on! ” came the orders, and Andy and 
Dunk were dragged off toward a certain resort. 

“No, we can’t go — really!” protested Dunk, 
holding back. 

“ We just came out for a glass of soda,” in- 
sisted Andy, “ and we’ve got to get right back! ” 

“Oh, yes! That’s all right.” 

“ Soda!” 

“ Listen to him ! ” 

“ Regular little goody-goody boys ! ” 

“ They were trying to sneak off by themselves 
and have a good time by their lonesomes! ” 

And thus the various laughing and disbeliev- 
ing comments came, one after another. 

“ Bring ’em along with us, and we’ll show ’em 


270 


Andy at Yale 

how to enjoy life!” someone called. “Gaffing- 
ton will meet us at Paddy’s! ” 

Dunk flashed Andy a signal. It would not do, 
he knew, to spend this night — of all nights — the 
one before an important game — with this crowd 
of fun-loving lads. They must get away. 

“ Look here, fellows ! ” expostulated Andy, 
“we really can’t come, you know!” 

“ That’s right,” chimed in Dunk. “ Let us off 

this time and maybe to-morrow night ” 

“There may never be a to-morrow night!” 
chanted one of the tormentors. “ Live while you 
can, and enjoy yourself. You’re a long time 
dead. To-morrow is no man’s time. The pres- 
ent alone is ours. Who said th^t, fellows? Did 
I make that up or not? It’s blamed good, any- 
how. Let’s see, what was it? The present ” 

“Oh, dry up! You talk too much! ” protest- 
ed one of his companions, with a laugh. 

“ What’s the matter with you fellows, any- 
how? ” demanded another of Andy and Dunk, 
who were making more strenuous efforts to get 
away. “Don’t you love us any more?” 

“ Sure, better than ever,” laughed Andy. 
“ But you know Dunk and I have to pitch and 
catch in the Princeton freshman game to-morrow, 
and we ” 

“Say no more! I forgot about that,” ex- 
claimed the leader. “ They can’t be burning the 


Victory 271 

midnight incandescents. Let ’em go, fellows. 
And may we have the honor and pleasure of 
your company to-morrow night?” he asked, with 
an elaborate bow. 

“ If we win — yes,” said Dunk. 

“ It’s a bargain, then. Come on, boys, we’re 
late now,” and they started off. 

Andy and Dunk, glad of their escape, flitted 
around a corner, to be out of sight. A moment 
later, however, they heard renewed cries and 
laughter from the throng they had just left. 

“Now what’s up?” asked Dunk. “Are they 
after us again? ” 

“ Listen ! ” murmured Andy, looking for a 
place in which to hide. 

Then they heard shouts like these: 

“That’s the idea!” 

“ Come on down to the Taft! ” 

“ We’ll give the Princeton bunch a cheer that 
will put the kibosh on them for to-morrow.” 

“ No, don’t go down there,” cautioned cooler 
heads. “ We’ll only get into a row. Come on to 
the rathskeller!” 

“No, the Taft!” 

“The rathskeller!” 

Thus the dispute went on, until those who were 
opposed to disturbing the Princeton players had 
their way, and the crowd moved out of hearing. 

“Thank our lucky stars!” murmured Dunk. 


272 Andy at Yale 

“ Let’s get our chocolate and get back to our 
room.” 

“ I’m with you,” said Andy. 

“ Oh, by the way, isn’t there one of your 
friends on the Princeton team? ” asked Dunk, as 
he and Andy were sipping their chocolate in a 
drugstore, on a quiet street. 

“ Yes, Ben Snow. He’s with the crowd at the 
Taft.” 

“ Did you see him? ” 

“ For a little while this evening.” 

“ I reckon he thinks his nine is going to win.” 

“ Naturally,” laughed Andy. “ The same as 
we do. But don’t let’s talk about it until to- 
morrow. I’ve gotten over some of my fit of 
nerves, and I want to lose it for good.” 

“ Same here. That little run-in did us good.” 

The two chums were back again in their room, 
and Andy brought out his catching glove, which 
he proceeded to mend. 

Quiet was settling down over the quadrangle 
and in the dormitories about the big, elm-shaded 
square. Light after light in the rooms of the 
students went out. In the distant city streets the 
hum of traffic grew less and less. 

It was quiet in the room where Dunk and 
Andy sat. Now and then, from some room 
would come the tinkle of a piano, or the hum of 
some soft-voiced chorus. 



And Andy took his place behind the rubber, 

while Dunk went to the mound. [See page 273] 

















































































































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Victory 273 

“ What was that you said about horseshoe 
nails and bees? ” asked Dunk, drowsily, from his 
corner of the much be-cushioned sofa. 

“ Forget it,” advised Andy, sleepily. “ I’m 
going to turn in. I’m in just the mood to drowse 
off now, and I don’t want to get roused up.” 

“ Same here, Andy. Say, but I wish it were 
to-morrow ! ” 

“ So do I, old man! ” 

The room grew more quiet. Only the night 
wind sighed through the opened window, flutter- 
ing the blue curtains. 

Andy and Dunk were asleep. 

The day of the ball game came, as all days 
do — if you wait long enough. There was a good 
crowd on the benches and in the grandstand when 
Andy and his mates came out for practice. Of 
course it was not like a varsity championship con- 
test, but the Princeton nine had brought along 
some “ rooters ” and there were songs and cheers 
from the rival colleges. 

“ Play ball ! ” called the umpire, and Andy 
took his place behind the rubber, while Dunk went 
to the mound. The two chums felt not a little 
nervous, for this was their first real college con- 
test, and the result meant much for them. 

“Here’s where the Tiger eats the Bulldog!” 
cried a voice Andy recognized as that of Ben 
Snow. Ben had come on with the Princeton dele- 


274 


Andy at Yale 

gation the night before, and had renewed ac- 
quaintance with Andy. They had spent some 
time together, Ben and the players stopping at 
the Hotel Taft. 

There was a laugh at Ben’s remark, and the 
Princeton cheer broke forth as Dunk delivered 
his first ball. Then the game was on. 

“ Wow ! That was a hot one ! ” 

“And he fanned the air! ” 

“ Feed ’em another one like that, Dunk, and 
you’ll have ’em eating out of your hand and beg- 
ging for more ! ” 

Joyous shouts and cheers greeted Dunk’s first 
ball, for the Princeton batter had missed it 
cleanly, though he swung at it with all his force. 

“ Good work! ” Andy signaled to his chum, as 
he sent the ball back. Then, stooping and paw- 
ing in the dirt, Andy gave the sign for a high 
out. He thought he had detected indications that 
the batter would be more easily deceived by such 
a delivery. 

Dunk, glancing about to see that all his sup- 
porting players were in position, shook his head 
in opposition to Andy’s signal. Then he signed 
that he would shoot an in-curve. 

Andy had his doubts as to the wisdom of this, 
but it was too late to change for Dunk was wind- 
ing up for his delivery. A moment later he sent 
in the ball with vicious force. Andy had put out 


Victory 27 5 

his hands to gather it into his big mitt, but it was 
not to be. 

With a resounding thud the bat met the ball 
squarely and sent it over centerfield in a grace- 
ful ascending curve that bid fair to carry it far. 

“ Oh, what a pretty one ! ” 

14 Right on the nose ! ” 

“Didn’t he swat it! Go on, you beggar! Run! 
Run ! ” 

“ Make it a home run! ” 

The crowd of Princeton adherents had leaped 
to their feet, and were cheering like mad. 

44 Go on, old man ! ” 

“Take another base. He can’t get it!” 

“Go to third!” 

“ Come on home! ” 

The centerfielder had been obliged to run back 
after the far-knocked ball. It was seen that he 
could not possibly get under it, but he might field 
it home in time to save a score. 

The runner, going wildly, looked to get a sig- 
nal from the coach. He received it, in a hasty 
gesture, telling him to stay at third. He stayed, 
panting from his speed, while the Princeton lads 
kept up their cheering. 

“ Now will you feed us some more of those 
hot cross buns?” cried a wag to Dunk. 

“Make him eat out of the bean trough!” 

“He’s got a glass arm!” 


276 Andy at Yale 

“ Swat it, Kelly! A home run and we’ll score 
two ! ” 

This was cried to the next man up. Dunk 
looked at Andy and shrugged his shoulders. His 
guessing had not been productive of much good 
to Yale, for the first man had gotten just the 
kind of a ball he wanted. Dunk made up his 
mind to be more wary. 

“ Play for the runner,” Andy signaled to his 
chum, meaning to make an effort to kill off the 
run, and not try to get the batsman out in case 
of a hit. 

“All right,” Dunk signaled back. 

“ Ball one! ” howled the umpire, after the first 
delivery. 

“ That’s the way! Make him give you a nice 
one.” 

“ Take your time ! Wait for what you want ! ” 
This was the advice given the batter. 

And evidently the man at the plate got the 
sort of ball he wanted, for he struck at and hit 
the next one — hit it cleanly and fairly, and it 
sailed out toward left field. 

“ Get it! ” cried the Yale captain. 

The fielder was right under it — certainly it 
looked as though he could not miss. The bats- 
man was speeding for first, while the man on 
third was coming home, and the crowd was yell- 
ing wildly. 


Victory 277 

Andy had thrown off his mask, and was wait- 
ing at home for the ball, to kill off the player 
speeding in from third. 

“ Here’9 where we make a double play!” he 
exulted, for the man going to first had stumbled 
slightly, and was out of his stride. It looked as 
though it could be done. But alas for the hopes 
of Yale! The fielder got the ball fairly in his 
hands, but whether he was nervous, or whether 
the ball had such speed that it tore through, was 
not apparent. At any rate, he muffed the fly. 

“Good-night!” 

“ That settles it ! ” 

“Go on, Ranter! Go on, Cooney!” 

Coaches, the captain, Princeton players and 
the crowd of Tiger sympathizers were wildly 
calling to the two runners. And indeed they were 
coming on. 

Andy groaned. He could not help it. Dunk 
threw up his hands in a gesture of despair. The 
fielder, with a gulp and a gone feeling at the pit 
of his stomach, picked up the muffed ball, and 
threw it to second. It was the only play left. 
And the batsman, who had started to make his 
two-bagger, went back to first. But the run had 
come in. 

“ That’s the way we do it! ” 

“ Come on, fellows, the ‘ Orange and Black ’ 
song! ” 


278 Andy at Yale 

“ No, the new one! ‘Watch the Tiger Claw 
the Bulldog! ’ ” 

The cheer leaders were trying to decide on 
something with which to celebrate the drawing 
of “ first blood.” 

The grandstands were a riot of waving yellow 
and black, while, on the other side, the blue ban- 
ners dropped most disconsolately. But it was not 
for long. 

“ Come on, boys! ” cried the plucky Yale cap- 
tain. “ That’s only one run. We only need 
three out and we’ll show ’em what we can do! 
Every man on the job! Lively! Play ball!” 

Dunk received the horsehide from the second 
baseman, and began to wind up for his next de- 
livery. He narrowly watched the man on first, 
and once nearly caught him napping. Several 
times Dunk threw to the initial sack, in order to 
get the nerve of the runner. Then he suddenly 
stung in one to the man at the plate. 

“ Strike — one ! ” yelled the umpire. The bat- 
ter gave a sign of protest, but he thought better 
of any verbal comment. 

“That’s the way!” cried the Yale captain. 
“ Two more like that, and he’s down!” 

Dunk did it, though the man struck one foul 
which Andy muffed, much to his chagrin. 

“Give ’em the Boola song!” called a Yale 
cheer leader, and it was rousingly sung. This 


Victory 279 

seemed to make the Yale players have more con- 
fidence, and they were on their mettle. But, 
though they did their best, Princeton scored two 
more runs, and, with this lead against her, Yale 
came to the bat. 

“Steady all!” counseled the captain. “We’re 
going to win, boys.” 

But it did not seem so, when the first inning 
ended with no score for Yale. Princeton’s pitcher 
was proving his power, and he was well sup- 
ported. Man after man — some of them Yale’s 
best hitters — went down before his arm. 

The situation looked desperate. In spite of 
the franctic cheering of the Yale freshmen, it 
seemed as if her players could not take the nec- 
essary brace. 

“Fellows, come here!” yelled the captain, 
when it came time for Andy and his chums to 
take the field after a vain attempt to score. 
“ We’ve got to do something. Dunk, I want you 
to strike out a couple of men for a change!” 

“I — I’ll do it!” cried the pitcher. 

Then Dunk pulled himself together, and the 
Tiger’s lead was cut down. Once the game was 
a tie Yale’s chances seemed to brighten, and when 
she got a lead of one run in the eighth her co- 
horts went wild, the stand blossoming forth into 
a waving mass of blue. 

This good feeling was further added to when 


280 


Andy at Yale 

Princeton was shut out without a run in the be- 
ginning of the ninth, and as i\ndy, Dunk and the 
other Yale players came in, having won the game, 
they received an ovation for their victory. 

Ikey Stein, sitting in the grandstand near an 
elderly gentleman, yelled, shouted and stamped 
his feet at the Yale victory. 

“You seem wonderfully exercised about it, my 
young friend,” remarked the elderly gentleman. 
“ Did you have a large wager up on this game? ” 
“ No, sir, but now I can sell two dollars worth 
of socks,” replied Ikey, hurrying off to get Dunk 
and Andy to redeem their promises. 

“ Hum, very strange college customs these 
days — very strange,” murmured the elderly gen- 
tleman, shaking his head. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


THE TRAP 

Joyous was the crowd of Yale players as they 
trooped off the field. The freshmen had opened 
their season well by defeating Princeton, and the 
wearers of the orange and black gave their vic- 
tors a hearty cheer, which was repaid in kind. 

“ It’s good to be on the winning side,” exulted 
Andy, as he walked along with Dunk. 

“ It sure is, old man.” 

Someone touched Andy on the shoulder. He 
looked around to see Ikey holding out a package. 
One in the other hand was offered to Dunk. 

“ The socks,” spoke the student salesman, 
simply. 

“Say, give us time to get into our clothes!” 
demanded Andy. “ Do you think we carry cash 
in our uniforms? ” 

“ I didn’t want you to forget,” said Ikey, with 
a grin. “ There is another fellow taking up my 
business now, and I’ve got to hustle if I want the 
trade. Going to your room?” 

“ Sure.” 


281 


282 


Andy at Yale 

“ I’ll go on ahead and wait for you,” said Ikey. 
“ I need the money.” 

“Say, you’re the limit! You’re as bad as a 
sheriff with an attachment,” complained Dunk. 
But he could not help laughing at the other’s per- 
sistence. 

Andy and Dunk were a little late getting back 
to Wright Hill, and when they entered their room 
they found a note on the table. It was from Ikey, 
and read: 

“ I found your door open, and waited a while, 
but I just heard of a bargain lot of suspenders I 
can buy, so I went off to see about them. I will 
be back with the socks in a little while.” 

“He found our door open! ” exclaimed Dunk. 
“Didn’t we lock it?” 

“We sure did!” declared Andy. “ I won- 
der ” He paused, and looked at his chum 

wonderingly. Then they both began a hasty 
search among their possessions. The same 
thought had come to each. 

“Did you have my amethyst cuff buttons?” 
asked Andy of Dunk, who was rummaging among 
his effects. 

“I did not. Why?” 

“They’re gone!” 

“Another robbery! Say, we’ve got to report 
this right away, and let Link’s lawyer know!” 
Dunk cried. “ This may clear him! ” 


288 


The Trap 

They paused, trying to map out a line of pro- 
cedure, when a messenger came in to say that 
either Dunk or Andy was wanted on the tele- 
phone in a hurry. 

“You go,” suggested Andy. “As long as 
either of us will answer I’ll stay here and take 
another look for my buttons. But I’m sure I 
left them in my collai box, and they aren’t there 
now.” 

Dunk hurried off, while Andy conducted a 
careful but ineffectual search. 

“ It was Link’s lawyer,” Dunk reported when 
he came back. “ His case comes up to-morrow, 
and he wants to know if we have any evidence 
that will help to prove Link innocent.” 

“ Not an awful lot,” said Andy, ruefully, “ un- 
less this latest robbery is. We’d better go see 
that lawyer. Did he say anything about the mys- 
terious hundred dollars Link got by mail?” 

“ He mentioned it. There’s no explanation of 
it yet, and he says it will look queer if it comes 
out, and if that’s the only explanation Link can 
give.” 

“Why need it come out?” 

“ Oh, it seems that Link showed the bills to 
several helpers around college, and some of them 
have been subpoenaed to testify. The detective 
will be sure to bring it out. Then there’s that 
story about the book found in Link’s room.” 


284 


Andy at Yale 

“Hello!-” exclaimed Andy, looking around 
the apartment in order to collect his thoughts. 
“ There’s another note someone left for us. It 
must have been knocked off the table.” He picked 
it up off the floor. It was addressed to him, and 
proved to be from Charley Taylor. It read: 

“Dear Andy. I watched you play to-day. 
You did well. I’ve got a peach of a mushroom 
bat that I don’t want, for I’m going in for row- 
ing instead of baseball this season. I left the bat 
in the storeroom on your corridor when I moved 
out of Wright Hall. You can have it if you like. 
I gave it to Mortimer Gaffington once, but he 
said he never could find it. I don’t believe he 
cared much about it, anyhow. Take it and good 
luck.” 

“By jinks! ” cried Andy, as he read the mis- 
sive and passed it to Dunk. “ Do you remember 
that time Mortimer was hunting for Charley’s 
bat in the closet?” 

“I should say I did! That was the time we 
were looking for the thief who took Frank Carr’s 
silver cup and his book.” 

“ Sure. Well, I’m just going to have a look 
for that bat now. Maybe I’ll have better luck 
than Mortimer did.” 

“ Go ahead. I’ll stay here in case Ikey comes 


285 


The Trap 

in with the socks. No use having him bother us. 
Might as well pay him so he’ll quit running in.” 

“ Sure. Well, I’m going to rummage for the 
bat,” and Andy, thinking of many things, went 
down the corridor to the large closet that was 
used as a store room by the students. 

It was more filled than before with many 
things, and Andy had some difficulty in locating 
the bat. Finally he found it away down in a cor- 
ner, under an old football suit, and drew it out. 
As he did so something fell to the closet floor with 
a clang of metal. 

“ I wonder what that was? ” mused Andy. “ It 

sounded like ” He did not finish the thought, 

but made his way to the far end of the closet. 
It was dark there, but, groping around, his fingers 
touched something hard, round, smooth and cold. 
With trembling hand Andy drew it out, and when 
the single electric light in the center of the store- 
room fell upon it Andy uttered a cry of surprise. 

“Frank’s silver cup!” he cried. “The thief 
hid it in there! I wonder if the book’s here, 
too? ” 

He made a hasty but unsuccessful search and 
then, with the bat and cup, he hurried to the room 
where Dunk awaited him. 

“What’s up?” demanded Dunlc, as Andy 
fairly burst into the room. 

“Lots! Look here!” 


286 


Andy at Yale 

“ Frank Carr’s silver cup ! Where’d you get 
it?” 

“ In the closet where Mortimer Gaffington hid 
it!” 

“ Mortimer Gaffington?” gasped Dunk. “You 
mean ” 

“ I mean that I’m sure now of what I’ve sus- 
pected for some time — that Mortimer is the 
quadrangle thief! ” 

“You don’t say so! How do you figure it 
out? ” 

“Just think and you’ll see it for yourself,” 
went on Andy. “ When we had the chase after 
the thief down this corridor that time, the trail 
seemed to lead right to this closet, didn’t it? ” 

“ Sure,” agreed Dunk. 

“ And who did we find in there? ” 

“ Why, Mort, of course. But he said he was 
looking for Charley Taylor’s bat.” 

“ Well, he may have been, but that was only 
an excuse. Mortimer didn’t want that bat, but 
he was almost caught and he did want a place to 
hide the stuff. The book he could slip in his 
pocket, but he couldn’t do that with the cup. So 
he threw it back in a corner, and it’s been there 
ever since. Probably he was afraid to come for 
it.” 

“ Andy, I believe you’re right ! ” cried Dunk. 
“ But one thing more — did you find a pair of rub- 


287 


The Trap 

ber shoes? You know Frank said the fellow that 
went rut of his room in such a hurry wore rubber 
shoes.” 

“ I forgot about that. I’ll have another 
look.” 

“ I’ll go with you. Ikey was here and I paid 
him for your socks and mine. So we can lock 
up.” 

“ And be sure you do lock,” warned Andy. “ I 
don’t want to lose any more stuff. Say, Morti- 
mer must have my sleeve links, all right.” 

“ All wrong, you mean. And my watch, too ! 
I wonder if we’re on the verge of a discovery? ” 

“ It looks so,” said Andy, grimly. 

Quickly and silently they went to the store- 
room. They were not disturbed, for there were 
several class dinners on that night, and most of 
the occupants of Wright Hall were out. Andy 
and Dunk intended going later. 

They rummaged in the closet and, when about 
to give up, not having found what they sought, 
Andy unearthed a pair of rubbers. 

“ These might be what the fellow wore,” said 
Dunk, as he looked at them. “ He could easily 
have slipped them off. See i(f there are any 
marks inside.” 

Andy looked and uttered a startled cry. For 
there, on the inner canvas of the rubber, printed 
in ink, were the initials “ M. G.” 


288 Andy at Yale 

“They’re his, all right!” spoke Andy, in a 
low tone. 

“ Then he’s the quadrangle thief,” went on 
Dunk. “ Come on back to our room, and we’ll 
talk this over. Something’s has got to be done.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Andy. “But what?” 

“We must set a trap,” suggested Dunk. 

“A trap?” 

“ Yes, do something to catch this mean thief — 
Mortimer or whoever he is — in the act.” 

“ Hadn’t we better tell the Dean — or some- 
one.” 

“No,” said Dunk, after thinking over the 
matter. “ Let’s see if we can’t do this on our 
own hook. Then if we make a mistake we won’t 
be laughed at.” 

“But when can we do it?” Andy asked. 

“ This very night. It couldn’t happen better. 
Nearly all the fellows will be out of Wright Hall 
in a little while. We’re booked to go, and Mor- 
timer knows it, for I was making arrangements 
with Bert Foley about our seats, and Mortimer 
was standing near me. He came to borrow ten 
dollars, but I didn’t let him have it. So he will 
be sure to figure that we’ll be out to-night.” 

“ But how do you know he’ll come to our 
room? ” 

“ I don’t know it. I’ve got to take a chance 
there. But we can hide down in the lower corri- 


289 


The Trap 

dor, and watch to see if he comes in this dormi- 
tory. If he does, knowing that ’most all the fel- 
lows are out, it will look suspicious. We can 
watch for him to go out and then tackle him. 
If he has the goods on him the jig is up.” 

“Well, I guess that is a good plan,” agreed 
Andy. “ I hate to have to do it, but we owe it 
to ourselves, to the college and to poor Link to 
discover this thief. I only hope it doesn’t prove 
to be Mortimer, but it looks very bad for him.” 

“ We can go farther than that,” went on Dunk. 
u We can leave some marked money on our table, 
leave our door open and see what happens.” 

“ It sounds sort of mean,” spoke Andy, doubt- 
fully; “but I suppose if we have to have a trap 
that would be the best way to do it.” 

“ Then let’s get busy,” suggested Dunk. “ He 
may not come to-night after all. We may have 
to watch for several nights. Meanwhile we’d 
better telephone the lawyer that we’re on a new 
lead.” 

This was done, and the man in charge of Link’s 
case agreed to see Andy and Dunk early the next 
day to learn what success they had. 

Then the trap was laid. The two who were 
doing this, not so much to prove Mortimer guilty 
as to free Link and others upon whom suspicion 
had fallen, went about their work. 

As Dunk had surmised, Wright Hall was al- 


290 


Andy at Yale 

most deserted. They found a hiding place in the 
lower corridor where they could see whoever 
came in. Their own door they left ajar, with a 
light burning. On the table where they had been 
put, as if dropped by accident, were a couple of 
marked bills. 

“ If he takes those, we’ll have him with the 
goods,” said Dunk, grimly. 

Then he and Andy began their vigil. 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


CAUGHT 

The silence got on the nerves of Andy and 
Dunk. It was very quiet in Wright Hall, but 
outside they could hear the calls of students, one 
to the other. Occasionally someone would come 
up on the raised courtyard of the dormitory and 
shout loudly for some chum. But there were no 
answers. Nearly all the freshmen were at an 
annual affair. The hall was all but deserted. 

“ Who do you think it will be? ” asked Dunk 
in a whisper, after a long quiet period. 

“ Why, Mortimer, of course,” answered Andy. 
“Do you have suspicions of anybody else?” 

“ Well, I don’t know,” was the hesitating an- 
swer. 

“ Everything points to him,” went on Andy. 
“ He’s in need of money, and has been for some 
time, though we didn’t know it. As soon as I 
heard that news about his father losing all his 
fortune, and the possibility that Mortimer might 
have to leave Yale, I said to myself that he was 
the most likely one to have been doing this quad- 
rangle thieving. 


291 


292 


Andy at Yale 

“ But I really hated to think it, for it seems 
an awful thing to have a Yale man guilty of any- 
thing like that.” 

“ It sure is,” agreed Dunk. “ What are we 
going to do if we catch him? ” 

“Time enough to think of that after we get 
him,” said Andry, grimly. 

“ No, there isn’t,” insisted Dunk. “ Look here, 
old man, this is a serious matter. It means a 
whole lot, not only to Mortimer, but to us. We 
don’t want to make a mistake.” 

“ We won’t,” said Andy. “ We’ll get him 
right, whether it’s Mortimer, or someone else. 
But I can’t see how it could be anybody else. 
Everything points to him. It’s very plain to me.” 

“ You don’t quite get me,” went on Dunk, try- 
ing to get into a more comfortable position in 
their small hiding place. “ I’ll admit that we may 
get the thief, and I’m willing to admit, for the 
sake of argument, that it may be Mortimer — 
in fact, I’m pretty sure, now, that it is he. But 
look what it’s going to mean to Yale. This thing 
will have to come out — it will probably get into 
the papers, and how will it look to have a Yale 
man held up as a thief. It doesn’t make any dif- 
ference to say that he isn’t a representative Yale 
man — it’s the name of the university that’s going 
to suffer as much as is Mortimer.” 

“ That’s so — I didn’t think of that,” admitted 


Caught 293 

Andy, rather ruefully. “ Shall we call it off? ” 

“ No, it’s too late to do that now. But we 
must consider what we ought to do once we cap- 
ture the thief.” 

“ What do you suggest?” asked Andy, after 
a pause. 

“ I hardly know. Let’s puzzle over it a bit.” 

Again there fell a silence between them — a 
silence fraught with much meaning. They could 
hear revelry in other college rooms, and the call 
of lads on the campus. From farther off came 
the roar and hum of the city. It reminded Andy 
of the night he had first come to New Haven. 
How many things had happened in that time. He 
would soon be a sophomore now — no more a cal- 
low freshman. 

“ Do you know,” spoke Dunk, in a low voice, 
as he again changed his position, seeking ease. 
“ I had an idea that Ikey might turn out to be 
the guilty one.” 

“ So did I,” admitted Andy. “That was after 
your watch was missing, and I found he had been 
in the room while I was out. But, for that mat- 
ter, Link was in there, too. It was a sort of toss- 
up between the two. Poor Link, it’s been mighty 
unpleasant for him, to be accused wrongly. I 
wonder how that valuable book got in his room? ” 

u The quadrangle thief put it there, of course.” 

u And there’s that case of Pulter’s book — 


294 


Andy at Yale 

found out near Yale Field,’’ went on Andy. “ I 
suppose Mortimer had that, too.” 

“ Very likely, though it seems queer that he’d 
stoop so low as to take books.” 

“ He could pawn ’em, I suppose, same as he 
did the other things he took,” Andy continued. 

“ The way he used to borrow money from me 
and some of the other fellows was a caution!” 
exclaimed Dunk. “ Seems as though he’d have 
enough to worry along on without stealing.” 

“ He spent a lot, though,” said Andy. u He 
was used to high living and I suppose when he 
found the money wasn’t coming from his father 
any more he had to get it the best way he could.” 

“ Or the worst,” commented Dunk, grimly. “ I 
know he never paid me back all he got, and the 
same way with a lot of the fellows. But if he’s 
coming I wish he’d show up. I don’t wish him 
any bad luck, and I’d give a whole lot, even now, 
if it would prove to be someone else besides Mor- 
timer. But I’m getting tired of waiting here.” 

“ So am I,” said Andy, with a yawn. 

Again there was a silence, while they kept their 
strange vigil. Then, far down the lower corri- 
dor, there sounded footsteps. 

“He — he’s coming!” whispered Andy in a 
tense voice. 

“Yes,” assented Dunk. 

But it was a false alarm. As the footsteps 


Caught 295 

came nearer the waiting lads saw one of the jan- 
itors on his rounds. He did not see them, and 
passed on. 

Andy was doing some hard thinking. The 
suggestion made by Dunk that the capture of the 
thief would be more of a black spot for Yale than 
the fact of the robberies taking place was bearing 
fruit. 

“ But what can we do? ” Andy asked himself. 
“We’ve got to stop these thefts if we can, and 
the only way is to catch the fellow who’s doing 
it.” 

They had been in their hiding place nearly an 
hour, and were getting exceedingly weary. Dunk 
shifted about, as did Andy, and it was on the tip 
of the latter’s tongue to suggest that they give 
up their plan for the night when they heard a 
distant door opened cautiously. 

“Listen!” whispered Andy. 

“All right,” assented his chum. “I hope it 
amounts to something.” 

With strained ears they listened. Now they 
heard steps coming along the corridor. Curious, 
shuffling steps they were, not hard, honest heel- 
and-toe steps — rather those of someone treading 
softly, as on soles of rubber. 

“ It’s him all right this time ! ” whispered Andy 
in Dunk’s ear. 

“I guess so — yes. Shall we follow him?” 


29 G 


Andy at Yale 

“ Yes. Take off your shoes.” 

Silently they removed them, and waited. The 
steps were nearer now, and a long shadow was 
thrown athwart the place where Andy and Dunk 
were hiding. They could not recognize it, how- 
ever. 

The shadow came nearer, flickering curiously 
as the swaying of an electric lamp threw it in 
black relief on the corridor floor. 

Then a figure came past the recess where the 
two lads were concealed. They hardly breathed, 
and, peering out they beheld Mortimer Gafling- 
ton stealing into Wright Hall. 

It was only what they had expected to see, but, 
nevertheless, it gave them both a shock. 

Mortimer moved on. They could see now 
why he could walk so silently. He had on rub- 
bers over his shoes. The same trick used by the 
thief who had entered Frank’s room. 

Mortimer looked all around. He stood in a 
listening attitude for a moment, and then, as if 
satisfied that the coast was clear, started up the 
stairs toward the corridor from which opened the 
room of Andy and Dunk. 

The two waited until he was out of sight, and 
then followed, making no more noise than the 
thief himself. They timed their movements by 
his. When he advanced they went forward, and 
when he stopped to listen, they stopped also. It 


Caught 297 

was like some game — a very grim sort of game, 
though. 

There was only a dim light in the upper corri- 
dor, and, coming to a halt where the shadows 
were deepest, Andy and Dunk watched. They 
saw Mortimer stop before a student’s door, try 
it and then came the faint tinkle of a bunch of 
keys. 

“ Skeletons,” whispered Dunk. 

Andy nodded in assent. 

The manipulation of the lock by means of a 
false key seemed to come easy to Mortimer. In 
a moment he was inside the room. What he did 
there Andy and Dunk could not see, but he re- 
mained but a few minutes, and came out, softly 
closing the door after him. 

“I wonder what he got?” whispered Dunk. 

“ We’ll soon know,” was Andy’s answer. 

Mortimer went softly down the corridor. He 
did not try every door, but only went in certain 
rooms, and these, the two watchers noticed, were 
those where well-to-do students lived. 

Mortimer made four or five visits, and then 
moved towards the apartment of Andy and Dunk. 

“ It’s our turn now,” whispered the latter. 

Silently they turned a corner, just in time to 
see Mortimer enter their room. 

“ Now we’ve got him ! ” exulted Andy. 

“Not yet; we’ve got to nab him,” whispered 


298 


Andy at Yale 

Dunk. “ Oh, Andy, this is fierce! To think that 
we’re spying on a Yale man! To think that a 
Yale man should turn out to be a common thief! 
It makes me sick! ” 

“ Same here,” sighed Andy. “ But the only 
way to stop suspicion from falling on others is to 
get Mortimer with the goods. We’ve got to save 
Link, too.” 

“ That’s right,” assented Dunk. “ He isn’t a 
Yale man, but he’s a heap better than the kind 
in there.” He nodded his head in the direction 
of their room, where Mortimer now was. 

They had left a light burning, and could see, 
as its beams were cut off now and then, that the 
intruder was moving about in their apartment. 

“ Come on, let’s get him — and have it over 
with,” suggested Dunk. 

“ No, we’ve got to get the goods on him,” said 
Andy. 

“ Well, hasn’t he got plenty of stolen goods — 
those from the other fellows’ rooms?” 

“ I know. But if we went in on him now he’d 
bluff it off — say he came in to borrow a book — 
or money maybe.” 

“ But we could search him.” 

“ You can’t search a fellow for coming to bor- 
row something,” declared Andy. “ Come on, 
let’s go where we can look in.” 

Silently they stole forward until they were op- 



“We’ve got you,” 


cried Dunk. 


[See page 299] 






. 

































. 






































■ 

















Caught 299 

posite their door. From it they had a good view 
of Mortimer. 

Just at that moment they saw him reach for the 
bills on the table and, with a quick motion, pocket 
them. Then the thief started toward a bureau. 

“Come on!” whispered Andy, hoarsely. 
“ We’ve got to get him now, Dunk! ” 

With beating hearts the two sped silently but 
swiftly into the room. They fairly leaped for 
Mortimer, who turned like a flash, glaring at 
them. Fear was in his startled eyes — fear and 
shame. Then in an instant he determined to 
face it out. 

“We — we’ve got you!” cried Dunk, exult- 
antly. 

“Got me? I don’t know what you mean?” 
said Mortimer, trying to speak easily. But his 
voice broke — his tones were hoarse, and Andy 
noticed that his hands were trembling. Mor- 
timer edged over toward the door. 

“I came in to get a book,” he faltered, “but 

I ” 

“Grab him, Dunk!” commanded Andy, and 
the two threw themselves upon the intruder. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


FOR THE HONOR OF YALE 

“ What does this mean? You fellows sure 
have your nerve with you ! Let me go, or 
I’ll ” 

Mortimer stormed and raved, struggling to get 
loose from the grip of Andy and Dunk. 

“ I’ll make you fellows sweat for this ! ” he 
cried “ I’ll fix you ! I— I’ll ” 

“You’d better keep quiet, if you know what’s 
best for you,” panted Andy. “ We hate this busi- 
ness as much as you ever can, Gaffington! Don’t 
let the whole college know about it. Keep quiet, 
for the honor of Yale whose name you’ve dis- 
graced. Keep quiet, for we’ve got the goods on 
you and the jig is up ! ” 

It was a tense moment, and Andy might well 
be pardoned for speaking a bit theatrically. 
Truth to tell he hardly knew what he was saying. 

“ Yes, take it easy, Gaffington,” advised Dunk. 
“ We don’t want to make a holiday of this affair; 
but you’re at the end of your rope and the sooner 
you know it the better. We’ve caught you. Take 
it easy and we’ll be as easy as we can.” 

300 


For the Honor of Yale 301 

‘‘Caught me! What do you mean?” asked 
the unfortunate lad excitedly. “ Can’t I come to 
your room to borrow a book without being jumped 
on as if I ” 

“ Exactly ! As though you were the thief that 
you are! ” said Andy, bitterly. “ What does this 
mean? ” 

With a quick motion, letting go of one of Mor- 
timer’s wrists, Andy reached into the other’s 
pocket and pulled out the bills. “ They’re 
marked with our initials,” he said, and his voice 
was sad, rather than triumphant. “We left 
them there to see if you’d take them.” 

The production of the bills took all the fight 
out of Mortimer Gaffington. He ceased his strug- 
gling and sank limply into a chair which Dunk 
pushed forward for him. 

There followed a moment of silence — a silence 
that neither Andy or Dunk ever forgot. The 
quadrangle thief moistened his dry lips once or 
twice and then said hoarsely: 

“ Well, what are you going to do about it? ” 

“That’s the question,” spoke Andy, wearily. 
“What are we going to do about it? ” 

“Are you going to deny it?” asked Dunk. 
“ Before you answer, think what it means. An 
innocent man is under charges for these thefts.” 

Mortimer did not answer for a moment. 
When he did speak it was to say: 


302 


Andy at Yale 

“ No, I’m going to deny nothing. 1 ou have 
caught me. I own up. What are you going to 
do about it? ” 

“ That’s just it,” said Dunk. “ We don’t know 
what to do about it.” 

Silently Mortimer began taking from his 
pockets several pieces of jewelry, evidently the 
things he had stolen from the rooms of other 
students. 

“ That’s all I have,” he said, bitterly. 

Andy and Dunk looked at him a moment with- 
out speaking and then Andy asked: 

“ Why did you do it, Mortimer? ” 

.“Why? I guess you know as well as I do. 
Everything is gone — dad’s whole fortune wiped 
out. We haven’t a dollar, and I had to leave 
Yale. We kept it quiet as long as we could. I 
didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t bear to! 

“ Oh, call it what you like — foolish pride per- 
haps, but I wanted to stay here and finish as I’d 
begun — with the best of the spenders. That’s 
what I’ve been — a spender. I couldn’t be other- 
wise — I was brought up that way. So, when I 
found I couldn’t get any money any other way I 
began stealing. I’m not looking for sympathy — 
I’m telling the plain truth. I took your watch, 
Dunk. I took those books. I smuggled one into 
Link Bardon’s room, hoping he’d be suspected. 
There’s no use in saying I’m sorry. You wouldn’t 


For the Honor of Yale 


303 


believe me. It’s all up. You’ve got me right! ” 

He leaned forward and buried his face in his 
hands. 

Andy and Dunk felt the lumps rising in their 
throats. They had to fight back the tears from 
their eyes. Never before had they taken part in 
such a grim tragedy — never again did they want 
to. 

“You — you admit all the quadrangle thefts?” 
faltered Andy. 

“Every one,” was the low answer. “ I took 
Carr’s book and silver cup — I hid them in the 
closet that day you fellows caught me. I took 
Pulter’s book, too. I was desperate — I’d take 
anything. I just had to have the money. I took 
the money Len thought he lost that night in the 
campus. Well, this is the end.” 

“Yes, it’s the end,” said Dunk, softly, “but 
not for us. We’ve got to think of Yale.” 

There was a footstep outside the door. The 
three started up in some alarm. They were not 
ready yet for disclosures. 

“ Beg pardon,” said a calm voice, “ but I could 
not help hearing what was said. Perhaps I can 
help you.” 

Andy swung open the door wider, and saw, 
standing in the hall, a man he recognized as one 
taking a post-graduate course in the Medical 
School. He was Nathan Conklin, and had taken 


304 


Andy at Yale 

a room in the freshman dormitory because no 
other was available just at that time. 

“Do you want some advice?” asked Conklin. 
He was a pleasant chap, considerably older than 
Andy or Dunk. And he seemed to know life. 

“ I guess that’s just what we do want,” said 
Andy. “ We are up against it. We have caught 


“You needn’t explain,” said Conklin. “The 
less said on such occasions the better. I happened 
to be passing and I could not help hearing. What 
I didn’t hear I guessed. Now I’m going to say a 
few words. 

“ Boys, Yale is bigger than any of us — better 
than any of us. We’ve got to consider the honor 
of Yale above everything else.” 

Andy and Dunk nodded. Mortimer sat with 
his face buried in his hands. 

“Now then,” went on Conklin, “ for the honor 
of Yale, and not to save the reputation of any- 
body, we must hush up this scandal. It must go 
no farther than this room. Gaffington, are you 
willing to leave Yale? ” 

“ I suppose I’ll have to,” Mortimer answered, 
without looking up. 

“ Yes, you would have to go if this came out, 
and it’s better that you should go without it be- 
coming known. Now then, are you willing to 
make restitution?” 


For the Honor of Yale 


305 


“ I can’t. I haven’t a dollar in the world.” 

“ Let that go,” said Dunk, quickly. 1 We 
fellows will see to that. I guess those that have 
missed things won’t insist on getting them back; 
they ’ll do that much for the honor of Yale.” 

“ About this other man who is under charges, 
are you willing to give testimony — in private to 
the judge — that will result in freeing him? ” asked 
Conklin. 

“ Yes,” whispered Mortimer. 

“ Then that’s all that’s necessary,” went on the 
medical student. “ I’ll go see the Dean. You’d 
better come with me, Gaffington. I’ll take charge 
of this case.” 

“ Thank heaven!” said Andy, with a sigh of 
relief. “ It was getting too much for me.” 

With bowed head Mortimer Gaffington fol- 
lowed the medical student from the room. What 
transpired at the interview with the Dean neither 
Dunk nor Andy ever learned. Nor did they ask. 
It was better not to know too much. 

But Mortimer left Yale, and the honor of the 
college was untarnished, at least by anything that 
became known of his actions. He slipped away 
quietly, it being given out that his family was go- 
ing abroad. And the Gaffingtons did leave Dun- 
more, going no one knew whither. 

A certain secret meeting was held, when with- 
out a name being mentioned, it was explained by 


306 


Andy at Yale 

Andy, Dunk and Conklin that the quadrangle 
thief had been discovered. It was stated that 
those who had suffered losses would be reim- 
bursed by private subscription, but the idea was 
rejected unanimously. 

How Mortimer worked, and how he accom- 
plished the various robberies, without being 
detected, remained a mystery. No one cared to 
go into it, for it was too delicate a subject. 

The charge against Link was dimissed after 
a certain interview the Dean had with the 
county prosecutor, and Link was given his old 
place back. 

“ But if it had come to a trial,” he said to 
Andy, when he was told that the thief (no name 
being mentioned) had confessed, “ if I had been 
tried I could have told where that mysterious hun- 
dred dollars came from.” 

“ Where? ” asked Andy interestedly. 

“ From that farmer you saved me from. He 
got religion lately, and felt remorse for my in- 
jured arm. So he sent me the hundred dollars 
for my doctor’s bill and other expenses.” 

“And never said a word about it?” asked 
Dunk. 

“ Not a word. But he died the other day, and 
the truth came out. A fellow I know in the town 
wrote me about it. So I could have proved that 
I didn’t get the money by stealing.” 


For the Honor of Yale 307 

“ It wasn’t necessary,” said Andy. “ So every- 
thing is explained now.” 

Andy’s first year at Yale was nearing its close. 
The season was to wind up with a series of affairs 
and with several ball games, including one for the 
freshman team. Of course Dunk and Andy 
played. 1 wish I could say that Yale won, but 
truth compels me to state that Princeton “ trim- 
med ” her. 

“And we’ll do it again!” exulted Ben Snow, 
as he greeted Andy after the contest. 

“ I don’t know about that! ” was the answer. 
Then Andy hurried off to where a certain pretty 
girl waited for him. No, I’m not going to 
mention her name. You wouldn’t know her, any- 
how. 

“ Well,” remarked Andy, as he and Dunk were 
packing up to go home for the summer holidays, 
“ college is a great place.” 

“ Especially Yale.” 

u Oh, I don’t know. Of course I think there’s 
no place like Yale, but there are others.” 

And that you may know something of life at 
the other big universities, I have written addi- 
tional volumes in this series. The next one will 
be called “ Chet at Harvard,” and will be fol- 
lowed by “ Ben at Princeton.” 

In each one certain matters will be set down 
that are peculiar to each college, for there is a 


308 


Andy at Yale 

distinctiveness of life at each of the leading 
schools of this country. 

And so Andy and Dunk packed up and pre- 
pared to start for home, agreeing to room to- 
gether again during their sophomore year, and 
until they had completed their college course. 

They had locked their trunks, and their valises 
where ready. When came a knock on their door, 
and a voice said: 

“Such bargains! Never before have I had 
such neckties and silk socks! Fellows, let me 
show you ” 

“Get out, you Shylock! ” laughed Andy, lock- 
ing the portal. “ We’ve only got money enough 
for our railroad fare!” 

And Ikey Stein departed, looking for other 
bargain victims. 

“Come on,” suggested Dunk, “ let’s take a walk 
over the campus and say good-bye to the fellows.” 

“ I’m with you,” agreed Andy. 

And arm in arm they departed. 


THE END 


The University Series 

By Roy Eliot Stokes 

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume , net $1.00 

It is our intention in this series to give an intimate 
view of life at various American seats of learning. We 
are sure that all lads who are interested in college life 
will enjoy these volumes. 


Andy at Yale 

Or The Great Quadrangle Mystery 

Andy went to Yale an utter stranger. He knew 
nothing about the university, its customs or its tradi- 
tions. As a freshman he was hazed and knocked around 
a good bit. But he “kept his feet,” and when the 
proper time came he showed what he could do on the base- 
ball and the football field. And, more than that — much 
more, in fact — he showed what a good friend he could 
be, when his roommate, the jolly Dunk, began to follow 
after the fast set of Yale. And then he helped to solve 
the great Quadrangle mystery — that mystery which had 
so bothered those in authority. 

Chet at Harvard 

Or A Young Freshman 9 s Triumph 

At the preparatory school Chet had been Andy’s 
chum, and when Andy went to Yale, Chet took himself 
to Harvard. Adventures in plenty awaited the young 
freshman, and he, too, was hazed and knocked around. 
This volume is full of the true spirit of Harvard, with 
its many clubs, and its interesting doings on the athletic 
field. Chet had no easy time of it while a freshman, 
and his final triumph was well deserved. 


SULLY AND KLEINTEICH - 


-New York 


Back to the Soil Series 

By Burbank L. Todd 

12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume , net $1.00 

The idea of this series is to show boys of to-day what 
can be done on a farm. With the ever-increasing de- 
mand for food stuffs, the farmer is rapidly coming into 
his own. He is no longer a “ hayseed; ” he is a busi- 
ness man, and one of prime importance to the commu- 
nity at large. 


Hiram the Young Farmer 

or Making the Soil Pay 

Hiram has been brought up on a farm, but had longed 
for the city and had gone there to try his luck. He made 
a failure of it, and when the opportunity came for him 
to go back to the soil, he went gladly, and showed those 
around him what could be done on a small farm that was 
badly run down. A story that has the smell of the green 
fields all through it. There is plenty of excitement, too 
— just the kind dear to every lad’s heart. 


Hiram in the Middle West 

Or A Young Farmer's Upward Struggle 

From the East Hiram travels to the Middle West, 
there to take hold of farming on a somewhat larger scale. 
The new situation is by no means an easy one to handle, 
but the lad goes at it manfully, and the success which 
finally comes to him is well deserved. A true. picture of 
farm life in the Middle West of to-day. 


SULLY AND KLEINTEICH- 


- New York 




































